


the heir of the isle

by meega



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, Knights - Freeform, Magic, Religious Conflict, Slow Burn, Swords, also yes i said leadotin rights, ladies and lords and all that shit, multi-chapter, royals au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:35:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28618884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meega/pseuds/meega
Summary: A vision, a dream, a fight, a sisters' quarrel, a couple of letters and a duty. And it all leads to the same arena, to the same competition, to the Isle. It all seems to lead to one thing, but what happens if they've got it all wrong? What happens when the Princess is sent away and the King dies?  There's a complot brewing behind the capital's walls but the only ones who can uncover it are being sent to protect the Princess in her journey to the Isle. Will the kingdom fall or will they realize the truth in time to stop it?//The Wilds Royals and Knights AU because 1. Toni with a sword, 2. Leah, Shelby and Fatin wearing beautiful robes and gowns and 3. Dot and Rachel wearing armor??? Oh and 4. Secret medieval spies Martha and Nora fuck yeah
Relationships: Dot Campbell/Fatin Jadmani/Leah Rilke, Martha Blackburn & Toni Shalifoe, Shelby Goodkind/Toni Shalifoe
Comments: 35
Kudos: 137





	1. The Garner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that awful summary but i promise this'll be a good fic, just give it a chance. Also, this first chapter is only to set the scene. The next ones'll have more interactions between them all and more plot and everything.

The story starts with a vision.

Oh, and a couple of letters. And a fight, and a dream, and a pair sisters’ quarrel, and, of course, a duty. But let us not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?

Back to the vision.

There was darkness, and then there was light. A succession of events many people would associate with the lighting of a candle, instant and warm, or the rise of the sun, languid, organic, beautiful. But that’s not what Shelby saw. No, this light was brusque and cold and blinging. And it came from everywhere at once. She reached up to shield her eyes and in the swift movement shadows started appearing in front of her. They carried no sound with them and the blinding lights around them, whose source she could still not identify, prevented her from making out any features aside from their massive stature and the long, slow limbs. There was a regality to them, an eerie power, old and alluring, that exuded from their presence, filling Shelby’s skin, making it feel as if a prickly heat was expanding all around her, in the air, on her skin, on the floor, everywhere.

They watched in expectancy, towering over her like mountains come alive, and Shelby watched back. And she wasn’t afraid.

Slowly, then, they formed a circle around her, and they kneeled. Don’t ask Shelby how she knew they’d kneeled. She barely even knew if they even possessed knees to kneel on, but she knows they did. And she was stuck to her place, unable to move under the pressure of forces beyond her comprehension, but she bowed her head at the creatures, knowing without really knowing that that was the respectable thing to do.

And a billion deep, unnatural voices in unison, spoke, even if the creatures’ faces remained static, “It is time.”

And then Shelby saw the island. _The Insulam._

The island in the middle of a cobalt blue sea, and the mountain that towered over it, the forest and the surf and the waves that crashed relentlessly against dark sand. And the temple at its center, its white columns and golden gates and wooden port, right at the mountain’s feet. And Shelby knew, her time was up.

//

A noise coming from the room adjacent to hers is what woke Martha up. By now, she was used to it. Princess Shelby had a tendency to night terrors since before she came under Martha’s care. And so, she swiftly pulled the covers from her feet, pulled a robe over her nightwear, and walked the few steps that separated her from the door that led to Shelby’s room, picking an unlit candle from the little dresser beside the door, and the matches that laid beside it, to light her path.

She found Shelby sweating and whimpering in her bed, still asleep. Martha immediately went to her side, placing the candle on the nightstand and reaching with steady hands to settle on Shelby’s shoulders. The girl struggled lightly against Martha’s hold, but she didn’t pull back, instead leaning closer and whispering to try and bring Shelby back, “Shh, you’re alright You Highness, it’s just a bad dream, you must wake up now.”

It took her a few tries but, soon enough, Shelby’s eyes opened with a startle. Martha offered her a sympathetic smile, her hand reaching up to caress her cheek in an effort to calm her heaving chest, but she found her skin covered in a thin layer of sweat and yet cold as ice. She was in shock. Martha would have to–

Suddenly, she grabbed Martha’s arm and gripped her tightly, and Martha stiffened. Shelby looked scared and out of breath, and when she tried speaking, no words came out.

“What is it, Your Highness?” Martha asked, startled by the other girl's intensity.

Shelby tried again but only managed a pitiful mumble before her lips were closed and her eyes enlarged from the panic. And that’s when Martha noticed. The color.

No longer Goodkind blue, her eyes now shone like molted gold in the candlelight. _The Gods’ Blessing_. Martha pulled back, almost as if Shelby’s touch was suddenly burning her.

“Martha…” Shelby’s voice was broken, trembling just like the rest of her body. her camisole was soaked even in the chilly night air.

“My lady I’ll– I shall call your father.” The handmaiden said, her voice trembling before she scurried out into the silent castle’s hallway. She found a guard standing outside, nodding off against a corner, his spear as his support.

“Guard!” Martha called. The man startled, almost dropping the weapon in his hands, “Bring the King, tell him it’s urgent! His daughter’s been blessed!”

The man scampered away immediately, his face a mixture of panic and confusion. But Martha didn’t dwell on it, she went back into the room then and found Shelby still where she was left, in the bed, drenched in sweat, shivering cold, and staring off into nothing with those startling golden eyes.

Martha gulped down her fear and put on a brave face. She remembered her childhood friend Toni for a moment and the strange thought seemed to evoke the shorter girl’s fierceness which somehow helped calming Martha’s racing heart. She approached Shelby then, _Princess Shelby_ , she reminded herself, and started the slow process that would be calming her down.

//

Now, about the rest of the introduction. I think the best place to start is always the fight. It’s eternally interesting to start with a fight. Action certainly drives our imagination, putting it into overdrive and warming us up for what’s to come next, right?

Toni woke up with a startle, too. And she was wet, although she was pretty sure she’d slept under a roof last night. And besides, it was summer, so where–

“–sleezy arse out of here before I call the guards!” a voice was talking to her, she realized. Or rather, screaming at her.

She turned just in time to avoid the hands that were about to grab her. She went into autopilot then. A shove followed by a spit and a kick, and then a jump that had her on her feet in no time. She reached down for the bag she’d used as a makeshift pillow for the night and hung it across her chest before the man recovered, “Guards! Guards!” He threw an empty bucket at her as she ducked away.

_Time to run._

She pushed past the barn’s closed door in seconds, crashing into a multitude of foul-smelling patrons at the market. The brightness of half-morning disoriented her for a split second, but she didn’t lose time waiting for her eyes to adjust. Bumping into people and getting shoved in response, she hurried away from the building. She heard the man screaming behind her but once she looked back, she found him standing by the stable’s open doors searching the crowd unsuccessfully. She snickered. At least there’s _one_ plus to being small.

She swiveled through the market streets with ease after a few minutes, when she was sure no guards had recognized her and the man’d given up trying to find her. Toni wondered with disdain why he’d gotten so worked up about. It’s not like she’d stolen something, she’d only sneaked in to sleep. She didn’t even stink like most people! She actually took the time to go down to the riverbend and wash her clothes and herself every once in a while, so the barn wasn’t even smelly. What an ass.

She was about to consider going back and maybe setting the man’s horses free, if only to fuck with his morning a little, when her stomach interrupted her with a loud grumble. She sighed. Raising her head to try and catch sight of something other than people’s shoulders and heads, she looked for an easy target, but luck was against her.

The market was full that day, which actually played on Toni’s advantage, but it was also full of shiny armors. Knights and their henchmen strolled around like they had since the past three days, buying supplies and showing off their banners, their shiny swords and polished shields, and bullying around the peasants that were unfortunate enough to come across their path.

Usually, the lower levels of the city weren’t the King’s knights’ scene, but since the Princess had been blessed three days ago, the city’d slowly started filling with more and more knights coming in to pay their respects to the King and participate in the garner's pre-games. And so, of course, the lower ranking knights had appeared around Toni’s neighborhood. They were the kind of men and women who needed to show off their emblems, to reveal their brand-new armors and strut around, making use of their title, of their _superiority_. Toni laughed at them. She was sure most wouldn’t be able to get themselves out of a bar brawl without the help of their squires. Pathetic, in her opinion.

But still, the last time she’d eaten was last morning and she was starting to feel the consequences. So, she took a chance. Walking quickly beside an unsuspecting baker’s stand, she pulled the loaf that was closest in a fast and efficient movement. The man at the stand, a tall and burly ginger, didn’t even blink an eye as he continued calling in people, offering his product with a deep, vibrant voice. In less than a second, the loaf was safe inside Toni’s bag. Proud of herself, Toni was about to make away with her winnings, off into a side-street where she’d be able to enjoy her breakfast unbothered, when a rough hand grabbed her by the armpit.

She was flat on the ground in seconds, the wind knocked out of her lungs. But, just as fast, she jumped to her feet, legs wobbling with vertigo as she tried to get her senses under control.

She was surrounded in seconds by men in armor. The same insignia, a badger with a tree, was stamped across their chests over a field of blue. They were all laughing at her and teasing as the people around tried to avoid the interruption in the constant flow of passersby.

“Alright, little girly.” One of the men spoke up. His armor was bright gold and his cheeks where covered in a ratty, blond beard, “Give it back and we’ll let you go unharmed.”

Toni snarled at him. She hated his kind. Always playing nice, unaware their intentions were crystal clear to the likes of Toni. He was just looking for a weakling to tower over, a meek little peasant to make his day brighter. Toni was used to people like him.

“Give what back?” she asked instead, playing dumb while at the same time she discretely tightened the strap of her bag over her shoulder. That bag contained every single possession she had, and her breakfast, so it was the last thing she was surrendering.

The man rolled his eyes and smiled, a cruel thing that never reached his dark brown eyes, “You know what, fleabag. Give the loaf back.”

“No way.”

And she jumped to his face. Most knights, in their grandeur deliriums, expected a clean fight. They expected you to bow before them prior to unsheathing your sword and clashing it against his, for then to have a referee signal the start of the duel. But that wasn’t Toni’s style. Not just because Toni didn’t really own a sword, or a sheath in which to wrap one, but because Toni didn’t generally play by the rules. She never had.

Because ever since she can remember there _were_ no rules, not in the real world. Because rules dictated you had a mother and a father, and together they should take care of you, and there should be food in your plate, and adults should be kind to children, and boys should respect girls, and so on and so forth. Toni’d never experienced any of that.

So, she jumped, and she scratched and soon enough, chaos broke loose. She felt hands immediately start grabbing at her from behind, from the sides, from everywhere, but she continued, jumping again and again, and she punched and kicked and scratched at every single thing she could find. She’s very good fighting, one on one, two on one, and even three on one; but when it came to seven or eight against her, she simply wouldn’t stop moving, hitting every and anything that came into her view. It usually worked.

This time it didn’t though.

The men had her pinned down to the ground in a matter of seconds, mud crawling into her every pore. She was going to have to wash her clothes again. Although she’s proud to note there was not even one of them who’d come out unharmed. They all had bloody scratches all over their faces and hands, and one of them’s holding his knee, apparently too hurt to put any weight on it.

They took her bag away then, and pulled her into an alleyway, and panic started seizing up Toni’s throat. She thrashed and pulled at them, trying to find an opening in which to escape, but their grip was like steel. They pushed her up against a house’s back wall, knocking her head against it for good measure. Toni still thrashed.

After a while the man, the knight, Toni assumed, held up his hand in the air and said, “Alright, settle down child. I won’t hurt you.”

“Like hell you will.” Toni muttered, trying to reach one of the man’s guard’s hand with her teeth. The man immediately pulled away and Toni could hear his panicked inhale.

“I promise on my honor or whatever. Just settle down, I’ve got an offer for you.”

She slowly settled, chest heaving, but didn’t relax, keeping her muscles tense and ready to pull at a moment’s notice. She knew how these things usually went. But the men didn’t seem too interested in stopping her anymore, aside from the two holding her against the brick wall. The rest just sat around minding their own business, one of them pulling up a pipe and smoking, another drinking from a canteen, another one walking away to pee against another house.

“What’s your offer?” she asked, jutting out her chin. She wasn't really interested in it – Toni’d never been good with negotiating, somehow it always ended badly. They either didn’t keep up their side of the bargain, or they tried to con her, or they just exasperated her. Any way, it always ended with a fight. But she asked regardless, if only to keep the man talking instead of beating her up, or worse.

He walked over to the guard with the pipe and pulled it from his lips, drawing a long puff before returning it and turning to Toni. He exhaled slowly, the smoke curling skywards in a soft, lazy manner. An instant later the smell hit Toni’s nostrils and she shuddered. It was sweet and acrid at the same time. It was the type of herb the drunkards down at the port usually smoked. The illegal imports.

“I think we can help each other out.” He started, walking over. He spoke again once his face was inches from Toni’s. The smell intensified, along with the sick stench of sweat and mud and old cologne he carried with him, “I see you’re in dire need of feeding,” he looked her over once and sneered. Toni wondered if he’d ever venture a little closer, maybe then she’d be able to bite his nose off, “and I am in dire need of a fighter.”

He smiled then, and straightened himself before opening his arms and addressing her as if she’d suddenly won a contest or something, “Will you be my champion?”

Toni laughed, loudly. She hooted up into the air for a moment before she realized the man was serious, “You think I jest, my dear?” he asked.

Toni settled her humor, frowning once she saw his offended face, “I’m no champion, man. I’m just a streetrat, remember?”

The man rolled his eyes.

“But _as my champion_ , you’ll get food and housing for life after the Garner. It’s ideal.”

“Ideal for me, and _if_ I pass the trials, which in itself is a big if. What’s in it for you?”

He seemed to consider it before he spoke, “As the King’s knight, there is a stupid rule that forces me to offer either myself or a squire up for championship at the Garner. Of course, I’m not a _lunatic_ so I won’t be volunteering and my men, well, as you can see none of them are spectacular, but from where I come from, they’re the best I could hire. Besides, I spent a _lot_ of money training them. I would hate to lose even one of them to this stupid celebration. Like, it hasn’t even been five years since the last one, and they want yet _another one_ of my men? No sir.”

“’Cause you know they’re not prepared for the trials. They’ve all lost, and you’re afraid they’ll lose again.” Toni raised an angry eyebrow, “Which means I’m not even close to even dreaming about surviving them either. You’re sending me there to die!”

His eyes darkened, “It’s either this or the palace dungeons, fleabag. Chose.”

Toni was about to bite back, but a feeling on the pit of her stomach stopped her, and she mulled over the options. She could always run. It was true, the men didn’t look like much and she was actually a little optimistic since she was sure she could take at least half of them in a fight. She just had to separate them long enough not to have them all over her at once.

But then again, that feeling nagged at her insides, and a thought struck her. A nice warm bed, a plate of soup that’s not cold. Maybe even some ale.

_Maybe something more than stealing and fighting your way through it all was waiting, just out of sight, just out of reach._

After all this was her fifteenth summer – that she could remember –, and she was tired.

And she knew the Wild Knights had all those things and more. Those forest green cloaks were greeted with cheers and offerings anywhere they went. Cheese, freshly baked bread, fried chips, and even sweets and pie. And clean clothes and jewelry, and horses to ride. And it could all be hers… only if she passed the trials.

The last time the opportunity’d presented itself had been four years ago and Toni hadn’t come of age yet, so the thought of applying hadn’t even crossed her mind. But now…

And being sponsored, even. Going in as a street rat alone was certainly suicidal. But going in as a street rat disguised as a squire… at least she’d get a sword or a shield and that alone could up her possibilities by a lot.

“I see you’re considering it.” the man spoke again, “You’ll get a uniform, of course, and maybe I’ll even spare a shield. I gather you know your way around a fight so I wouldn’t be too worried about the first few rounds.”

//

“Rachel, No!” Nora’s voice run through the empty house as she followed her sister outside, “You won’t survive, it–”

But Rachel’d had enough. She turned and cut her sister short, “Look, Nora. Shut up. I know. I won’t go, alright?”

The lie slipped past her lips easier than the six times she’d repeated it before. But Nora stared back with pleading eyes, not yet convinced. Rachel rolled her eyes, stepping closer and grabbing her sister’s hand to give it a squeeze before speaking again, “It was just a thought, you know how I get with all of this. Forget I mentioned it, yeah? I’m not going, I know it’s stupid and dangerous. Besides, I promised mom and dad I’d help you with the fields, right? I’m not leaving.”

Nora nodded and the discussion seemed to have ended. But throughout the day, as they worked on their parents’ farm spreading the seeds down the grooves they’d carved on the ground the day before, Nora’s eyes followed Rachel, worried. She knew her sister well enough to know there was something up, but she also knew Rachel wouldn’t cave. The fact that she was still here on the fourth day was truly a miracle, an ode to Nora’s doings. Because Rachel’d spent the largest part of the past six years training herself. She’d spent countless nights awake running, jumping, fighting against trees with sticks for swords, riding the neighbor’s horse with no hands, swimming through the nearby pond’s length until she could barely keep herlsef out of the water; all of it to mirror the knight’s practices.

And now her dream was here, there for Rachel’s taking, the only thing stopping her… Nora.

It wasn’t a large field, but it took them a whole day to get it done. By sundown, the two girls were covered in sweat and dirt and aching and, as if it was an afterthought, Rachell called out to Nora as the other girl was stepping into the small house’s threshold, “Hey Nora, I’m going to go down to the well to wash up, I’ll be back before nightfall.”

Nora looked like she wanted to protest, but Rachel turned before she could.

Nora prayed to the Gods that Rachel would return. She prepared dinner for the two of them and set out a fresh set of robes for Rachel to wear after she’d washed up. She knew she was being foolish, but she still tried.

Like Toni, the last time the Garner was celebrated Rachel was still too young. Now, though, Rachel was seventeen and headstrong.

So instead of heading for the village’s well to gather water, Rachel headed for her neighbor’s stables.

She figured the horse would return home as soon as she set it free so, really, it wasn’t stealing. She was trotting away before anyone noticed anything had happened at all.

//

The first letter arrived during the day. The second, during the night.

The first went to a palace far from the coast, almost three days deep into the mainland, surrounded by rich, sodden forests, valleys of endless pasture hills, and mountains of cold, jagged rock. The Lord and Lady of the palace commanded the southern lands, kept outsiders away from the borders and protected the steel companies that worked mining the mountains they guarded. And the Lord and Lady of the palace, Lord and Lady Rilke, had a single daughter who received the letter.

Young Lady Rilke, Leah, was usually found on the palace library, nose deep inside an old scroll while the open window blew in the breeze, carrying small leaves ripped lightly from the cherry tree that had grown right outside. It was a wonderful feat, considering the palace had been built into the face of the mountain, overlooking the valley and its forests and hills, and the library was located in one of the highest towers. And that’s exactly where the letter, at the hands of her favorite handmaiden Theodora, reached her.

“A letter, my Lady,” the slight brunette informed after answering the library’s door, “from the princess.”

This made Leah’s ears perk up and she stopped reading, “The princess?” she asked, albeit with a little mockery on her tongue.

She’d never actually met the princess in person, but they’d exchanged letters every few years. Leah knew of their respecting duties, knew that one day she herself would take over the south and Shelby would be her Queen. But the reality was still a few too many years away, and Leah was contempt with letting it go, forgetting to answer her letter for months at a time and hindering their interactions to the max. It wasn’t that she disliked the princess, but she just sounded a little too naïve for Leah’s taste. Her writing was a little too pompous, and she could just imagine the slight drawl with which she would pronounce her words, so typical of folk from the north.

“Yes, my Lady,” continued her handmaiden. Leah looked up at her extended hand and found the letter there, except Shelby’s handwriting was replaced by an ugly, crude one on the envelope, right over the royal seal that kept it all together, “The messenger said it was of utmost importance that you read it as soon as you received it. he wore a green cape, too.”

Leah mentally rolled her eyes, but received the offered letter, nonetheless. She was a Lady, after all, and as a Lady she had to be a loyal subject to her future Queen.

Inside, the piece of paper wasn’t long. It wasn’t like past letters she’d received where Shelby would enjoy describing everything about the capital in drawn out detail in the expanse of several pages. It was one single page, and the handwriting wasn’t even Shelby’s but the same crude, ugly one of the envelope.

_My dearest Lady Leah,_

_If my estimates are correct, this letter must be reaching you in two days’ time. I sent it with my fastest messenger for that purpose alone. This is an invitation and one, I’m afraid, you cannot decline._

_The time has come for me to have finally been blessed by the Gods. Their touch has reached me at last and, as one of my oldest friends, I have chosen you to walk this path alongside of me._

_You must arrive at the capital in four days’ time at the latest and shall witness the Garner alongside me before sailing towards our destiny together. May the Gods bless my choice and may they, too, bless your travels. I’ll see you soon,_

_S._

Leah scoffed. It didn’t even sound like Shelby’s writing. Not that Leah knew much about Shelby, but she knew the girl’s writing. She never addressed her as _Lady_ Leah, just Leah or my dear friend; she never used that many periods, she loved long sentences with lots of flourish and descriptive words; and she _never_ mentioned the Gods, not like that, not that reverently and _devoted_.

And if there was _anything_ Leah was good at, it was reading.

“Who wrote this?” she asked, voice sharp as she stared out the window, waiting for Theodora to answer, “Princess Shelby, I assume, my Lady.”

Leah laughed without mirth, as a few more leaves entered through the window, settling on the carpet at her feet, “Shelby doesn’t write like that. Tell my father I wish to see him. This doesn’t make sense.”

//

The second letter, as was previously stated, reached its addressee during the dead of night. The messenger arrived, his dark green cloak billowing behind him, with a half-dying horse and the hunger of two days spent on nothing but riding, but he insisted on delivering the letter himself, afraid of possible enemies getting a hold of it even inside the sturdy doors of the western palace from where Lady and Lord Jadmani ruled their lands.

The addressee in question being their eldest daughter, Lady Fatin.

In turn, the girl barely even read the letter before going back to bed and the messenger, relieved his job was done, collapsed onto the nearest offered cot.

But Lady Fatin did not go to sleep when everyone else left her room. She laid awake all night, instead, eyes fixed on the stars that peaked their light through Fatin’s open windows. Living in the north, Fatin had never really known closed windows. The heat was too gran at any time of the year for there to be anything that could interrupt the constant currents of flowing air that cooled down the burning walls of the castle. Her windows didn’t even hold a glass to close them. They remained eternally open, and yet Fatin was never able to reach past them. She would stare outside and dream of the world past the plains, past the crops and the heat and the desert.

She didn’t know the princess. She remembered travelling south to the capital as a child, no more than ten summers old, playing with her gown and spinning through endless nights of dancing and feasting, and amongst all those fuzzy memories, she remembered hairs of gold and eyes of a deep blue and a brilliant smile. She’d met Shelby only once, like most Ladies and Lords, but she’d definitely made her mark on Fatin’s memory.

But a mark like that was most definitely _not_ big enough to warrant the title of ‘ _one of my oldest friends’_ , though Fatin. Something was off about this invitation.

But then again, something had always been off about Fatin’s life. She was a Lady, future commander of endless strips of land, of high cliffs that dove down to the crushing waves, of plains full of cattle and horses that could run faster than the wind, of cities full of subjects ready to give their lives for hers, and of enough gold she could probably commission the construction of a full ass galleon and there’d still be more to mine. And yet she was never free, not to roam or party or explore. Not to do as she pleased, not even to have _friends._

Maybe this was an opportunity, she thought as irony laced her mind’s ramblings, _maybe this is my chance to run._

She’d see in only two days’ time.

//

Dreamers come and go, most die in the pursue of their dream. Rachel knew that, and so did Lady Dorothy. Or Dot, like she preferred to be known. And they both deemed the risk worth the reward.

She’d never been a conventional Lady. Her father, Lord of the East and commander of the Royal Troops, had always been on the delicate side of health, ever since him and the King had return from the Ten Year War, right before Dot was born. But now, as Dorothy entered her eighteenth summer, his health had started declining exponentially. He no longer strolled through the breezy castle’s hallways, he no longer stared off into the sunset, his hands on the terrace’s railing. He no longer sparred with his daughter or rode the horses down to the city to talk with his subjects. He instead coughed and spit and suffered.

So, it became her job to take over the estate, to manage the castle and the lands adn the troops, and she was damn good at it.

But it wasn’t what she _wanted_ , and her father knew it. That’s why, when the news broke that an unusual Garner was being held in two days’ time at the capital, her father called her into his chamber and sat her down in his bed and begged her.

“…Take my armor, I had it fitted to you in secret about a year ago. I know this has been your dream for as long as I can remember. Being a knight of the Insulam, that would make me the proudest–”

“Shut up, Dad, I’m not leaving you.” Dot cried through unshed tears. She looked away, unable to deal with her father’s pleading look. He didn’t understand. _What if she left and he died?_

//

Nora huddled over her untouched pitch of ale. In front of her, Theodora laughed along with the two boys that had come to keep them company about half an hour ago.

Her plan was coming along nicely. All that was left was for the clock to strike twelve, or one, or two, or even three in the morning, and Theodora to then remember her duty. Nora would offer her company on the way back and, as soon as the palace officials saw what state she was in, they’d know she wouldn’t be able to continue her job as the Lady’s handmaiden. She knew those rules were strict. Theodora knew them, too, but Nora’d convinced her to give in for a moment, promising she’d help her, stop her before she drank too much.

And then, of course, once Theodora was let off her job Nora would take over. She knew she had all the makings for a wonderful handmaiden, and, in the rush of necessity, the officials would cave. She’d then have to convince whoever was Theodora’s lady to actually keep her, but that was problem for the future.

And much like her sister, Nora felt the lies pile out of her mouth easier and easier the more she uttered them.

“I think we should order another round!” Nora called over the noise of the lively bar and the group cheered at her proposal.

And as if on cue, as if following Nora’s unwritten script, the clock struck two and Theodora startled. But the ale prevented her from opening her eyes both at once, and her feet stumbled upon everything, so Nora helped her out of the bar, paying for their drinks on her way, and down the capital’s raucous streets. Ever since the announcement of a new Garner was made, six days ago, there’d been endless parties amongst the city’s inner rings. Nora’d only arrived the day before, but she could see the consequences clear enough. Drunkards littered the streets, pissed all over and covered in mud, and the innkeepers were ecstatic with the inflow of curious souls looking to attend at least one of the trials of the Garner.

Nora shook her head. Thinking about the Garner made her think about her sister, and that made her lose her focus. So instead, she concentrated on Theodora’s weight against her shoulder, and the streets they were crossing, until she arrived at one of the palace’s back entrances. The one the staff used to sneak out.

“Oh, for the love of the Gods, lady Theodora, are you alright?” a knight with a green cloak asked as soon as he opened the door. There were many more of those around as of late, noted Nora, with the Garner quickly approaching. His hair was blond and his eyes a pale, ashy blue. Nora smiled, “No, I think she drunk too much. I just found her roaming down the street. She has a royal seal on her pin, so I thought I’d bring her over.”

“Thank you…” he looked at her expectantly before Nora caught on, “Nora.” She spoke. He smiled, a timid thing, before reaching over and hauling Theodora’s almost unconscious body from her arms, “Will she be alright?” Nora asked as innocently as she could.

The knight didn’t hide his worry, “I don’t think so. If the Lady catches her, she’ll be fired for sure.”

“But she was to work tomorrow, doesn’t she? It’s the Garner, after all.”

He nodded, “I have no idea what to do, if I’m being honest, Nora.”

Nora smiled, “I could… I could replace her, if that would help.”

He smiled and Nora thanked the Gods for the kind, well-spirited knight They put on her path. Had he been literally anyone else, she’d probably had a much harder time trying to convince him to let her take over Theodora’s job.

“You would do that? For a complete stranger?” he asked. Nora nodded, “I mean, I don’t have any more work back home. I actually run away to see the Garner, and I’m pretty good at caring for other people, so I guess the Gods put me in Theodora’s way for a reason.”

The knight smiled, opening the door a little wider so that Nora could pass through before closing it.

//

The Garner was a celebration, but it also was a competition. Firstly, the King’s knights were all required to assist and participate on demonstrations of valor and ability. This would all happen three days prior to the Garner where there would be jesters and feasts adn friendly competitions and sparring events where the public would be entertained, preparing for the main event. The main event being the trials.

As Toni was explained before, knights also must offer a champion, and at the same time any commoner can offer themselves. Most don’t, though. The purpose of the Garner is so that every five years, only the best of the best try to join the Order of the Insulam, the Wild Knights. And they must be the best because their duty is sacred. They carry the green cloak and swear their lives to the Gods as their safekeepers. They protect the priests and priestesses, guard the temples, and command missions in Their names.

Even the King’s knights weren’t as loved and respected as the Order.

It was the ultimate honor – if you passed. The other options were death, gruesome and painful, or shame. Those who failed the trials and still managed to walk away with their lives intact were seen as cowards, Gods’ challengers, outcasts.

Toni wasn’t sure which option was best. Maybe death, if she was being honest.

All the hope she’d carried after her talk with the knight, Sir Gareth Browl, as she’d found he was called later on, was gone the moment she stepped into the arena.

Sir Browl had given her a badger uniform that was a little too big, a pair of boots – which felt extremely off in Toni’s feet that had been bare for the past five years, at least – a knife, and a leather bag to carry her things. She got to keep the loaf, and Sir Browl even gave her a bit of his olive oil to season it. It was the best breakfast she’d had. It was probably going to be one of the last, too.

That evening Sir Browl and his men took her to the city’s arena and surrendered her to the green cloaked knight at the entrance. He said she was eighteen years of age and Toni wondered if it was true. She remembered at least fifteen years back, but she guessed it had to be a little bit more, maybe seventeen, considering babies of less than three can’t really remember anything. The cloaked knight didn’t question it, though. He was kind enough, talking Toni inside and leading her into a small room with nothing but a bed and a chandelier and a chest in it, and told her to wait.

Toni waited three days, if her calculations were correct. They gave her food through a sloth in the door, but more than a competition it felt like a prison. But then, the time to fight arrived, and the green cloaks took her from her room/cell to the arena, and Toni almost crapped her brand-new pair of pants.

//

There are a few different trials that you can be thrown into. The aim is to both entertain and prove the champions’ valor, so Dot was pretty sure she was either getting the free-for-all gladiator-style fight, the duel with the beast, or the free-for-all capture the flag. At least that’s what had happened during the past Garners she’d attended as a Lady.

But now she wasn’t a Lady. No, Lady Dorothy Campbell was away on a vacation to the southern regions. She was Dame Dot Grinnell, recently granted knighthood as a result of the courage she'd demonstrated by fighting off a wild hog that was terrorizing the village near Lord Campbell’s castle. And for this now the emblem of a wild hog running across a red background, with a salmon jumping over it – her father’s emblem – was plastered across her chest plate. She promised herself she’d wear it as honorably as she could.

The amount of leather and steel on her made her sweat profusely, but Dot ignored it, she ignored it all. She ignored the trembling feeling in the pit of her stomach that threatened to have her puking by the end of the evening if she wasn’t allowed to punch something quick, or that reminder in the back of her head of her father laying on his deathbed, waiting for her to return, or the chatter and clinking and ruffle of the other knights in the room as they, too, prepared for whatever challenge they were all supposed to undergo.

Dot only concentrated on the door ahead, a heavy thing, made of a dark oak at least seven feet tall and five wide. The lock on it as big as Dot’s head, and she wondered anxiously about what might be on the other side.

Behind her, the room was wide, but the ceilings were low, only climbing a little higher as you approached the door. The rafters where in plain sight and the wall’s painting was slowly pealing off. the floor was made of cobblestone, but years of heavy footsteps had left it almost as polished and smooth as a marble salon. There were no windows, only low burning torches every few feet hanging from the walls and a few benches pushed up under them. No one was sitting. There were about twenty knights at least, some covered in the greatest of armors, freshly polished, adorned with jewels and precious silk; and some, like the small girl to Dot’s side who hung back against the wall, eyes downcast and a set jaw, who barely even carried their sponsor’s emblem – a badger nonetheless – on their chest over a ratty leather gambeson.

Dot shook her head. This was supposed to be an honor. You were offering your life to the Gods in the purest, bravest way. There was no honor in sending a child like her into a battle like this. She gripped her sword’s hilt a little tighter and turned back to the door, but the other champion had noticed her.

“The fuck you’re looking at, meathead?” she demanded. For such a small being, she had a voice as deep as Dot’s father. She turned only to find the kid’s face inches from hers. She was standing on her tiptoes, hand tightly clasping Dot’s armor, and the energy of a feral wolf in her eyes.

“Damnit, kid, chill out. I was just looking around. Didn’t mean to offend you, fuck.” Dot explained, trying to keep her voice even. The kid’s eyes remained fixed on Dot’s, their intensity unwavering, but she let go and stepped back, shrinking back to her natural height after a moment.

“Fuck off.” she muttered before turning back to her little spot by the wall.

“Name’s Dot, by the way.” Dot’s not sure why she did it, but the fire in the kid's eyes made her think maybe she’d make it through the trials after all. With a spark like that it’s hard to think the absence of a stupid armor or weapon could keep her down. So, she introduced herself, trying to strike up some sort of conversation, “I come from the eastern coasts, you?”

The kid looked up for a moment, a snarl still set in place, “Toni. Toni Shalifoe.”

Dot mulled over the last name. It didn’t ring any bells, but she was sure she’d heard it before. It made her think of the Ta’Pïu Islands off the coast where she lived. People there always carried themselves with the same pride and fire Toni did, their eyes slanted like hers, and the frizzy hair. Only most of those folks towered over six feet tall, with muscles as large as their heads. Toni was wiry and no more than five feet something if she was lucky.

“You’re not from around here either, are you?” she asked. Toni rolled her eyes, “Look, we’re probably going to have to beat each other to death out there any moment now so, this little friendly debacle? I’m not doing it.”

Dot rolled her eyes and surrendered, turning back to the door and shrugging her armor in hopes of getting it to finally sit comfortably against her shoulders.

//

The door opened with a shuddering noise and the glaring light of a midday sun blinded Rachel. She raised her shield – the one she’d stolen along with a sword and a helmet from that drunk knight outside a tavern two days ago – to cover her eyes.

The arena was huge. There was a hill at the center where a golden goblet stood at least five feet tall. Surrounding the slope, a river of dark, ghastly rapid water flowed with a spam of about ten feet from shore to shore. _You’ll have to swim_ , Rachel thought as a small, smug smile pulled at her lips. Most people never learned how to swim. It wasn’t a necessity, and it’s not like everyone had a pond deep enough behind their family’s farm to practice. That would definitely give her an advantage.

The ground surrounding the river was plain enough, with large boulders and crumbled ruins to serve as hiding spots, she assumed. The walls that separated the pit from the surrounding crowds were at least twenty feet tall, made of limestone and smooth as wood. No chances climbing those. And the crowds roar was deafening. Everything was huge and striking. From her spot, still inside the room, she could barely make out the people sitting opposite her with banners and cheers and flags with various colors and emblems.

 _None of those are for you,_ she thought with a bitter scorn, _but it doesn’t matter._

She tightened her grip on her stolen sword and steeled herself, breathing in as the knights and fighters in front of her started entering the arena. Soon, her turn arrived, and she was out in the open.

Out there the sound was even louder. She was dizzy, for a moment, as she raised her eyes to the multitudes. This was Rachel’s first time in the capital and definitely the first time she saw that many people gathered together. She didn’t even think there could _exist_ that many people, don’t even think about having them all together in just one building.

To the north, to Rachel’s left, rose a sheltered building from the stands and Rachel assumed that’s where the King and his Lords must be, watching. She turned to them along with the rest of the fighters. When they bowed, she bowed along.

“Champions!” The King’s voice revebrated through the arena and the people settled, the noise dying slowly. From her spot of the ground, all she could see of the man was a tall figure with light hair covered with a golden crown standing in front a magnificent throne. A golden cape was draped over a deep, blue robe and the golden hilt of a sword at his side. Rachel raised her head a little, pulling her shoulders back and straightening her back a little more. The King was addressing her.

“Fortunate tributes to my daughter’s own Garner! The honor is mine.” He gestured to his side where a girl sat on a smaller throne. She wore an impressive golden dress with blue satin wrapping around her arms and decorating the details of her chest. She wore a silver tiara over golden locks, but her eyes weren’t really focused on her father, or the arena. She faced straight ahead, almost like she wasn’t there.

“Today of all days is destiny’s time! The Gods have guided all our paths here, to today, to witness the raise of the bravest and the fall of the cowards.” A pause. The arena roared again before the King raise his arms to continue, “You, my champions, shall prove your worth in the following trial: there are four beasts, each of them carrying a relic. You must slay the beast and take the relic, and then place it in the goblet. Simple enough, isn’t it?”

The crowd laughed and teased, and the King smiled before issuing the final order, “Champions at the ready!” around Rachel, the fighters rose to their feet, unsheathed their swords and lowered their visors, readying themselves. Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel caught sight of a short fighter pulling a knife from her belt and wielding it as if it was a sword, both hands on the hilt. Rachel smiled, _an easy beat_. “Guards! Release the beasts!”

//

“Your highness, the fight has started.” Martha addressed the princess with a nervous call, unsure weather she should bother her or not. the King had stepped away and was currently talking with his Lords, setting bets to see which champion would fall first. Meanwhile, Shelby still stared at the skies like she’d done throughout the past six days, like she’d done since the blessing had changed her eyes from blue to gold.

Sometimes Martha wondered if it had blinded her, but then Shelby turned to address her, and Martha was sure the other girl could see her as clear as day.

“Oh, I hadn’t realized.” She muttered, a practiced smile falling onto her lips. She turned to the arena then, “Do you have a favorite, dear Martha?”

Martha approached the railing and looked down. She hadn’t really been paying much attention to the Garner. It’d never really called to her, the sight of people mutilating each other for sport. She clearly was amongst the only ones who though that way.

She looked down and observed the lot. She caught sight of a golden goblet at the center on a hill, a river crossing the arena and spiraling around the mound before disappearing through the walls, and amongst it all, about twenty warriors fighting each other and four beasts. There was a huge jackalope, a scorpion, a sphynx, and a drakon. Martha winced, trying not to hurl at the sight. There were already bodies on the ground. The sphynx was about to snarl at small figure, in fact, but the fighter expertly jumped to the side in time to avoid the animal’s huge paws. The fighter then turned their head towards were Martha sat and recognition drew the air from her lungs. The fighter looked away a moment later, jumping out of reach of the sphynx and falling down the boulder she’d been standing on.

But Martha choked, “No!”

Shelby, beside her, startled, giving her a disapproving look, “What do you mean, Martha?”

Martha scolded herself, swallowing the fear that had suddenly gripped her throat and frowning to try and school her features. But Shelby wasn’t exactly mad as a little concern slipped through her golden eyes, “What is it?” she asked.

“My…” but Martha still couldn’t speak. She was shivering as she looked back to the arena and found the small figure again easily. No armor, no weapons, she jumped from rock to rock as the rest of the warrior tried to fight off the beast. _What was she doing?!_ She turned back to Shelby, trying to remember her own duties to the princess, “My– My best friend is down there.”

Shelby’s eyebrows shot up as she turned to the arena again, “Which one?”

Martha pointed and Shelby’s eyes followed her finger until she found Toni, “Oh, the small one.”

Martha nodded, “She’s like a sister to me. We grew up together.” Her voice was low and strangled, revealing her emotions, her fear. Shelby looked pained by Martha’s situation. She reached out and placed a soft hand on Martha’s arm for a moment as she said, “I really hope she makes it.”

//

Toni was dead.

She was dead and dying at the same time, she thought, as the sphynx snarled and clawed at the boulder she’d managed to get herself up on. She almost laughed at the feeble knife she had clutched in her right hand. A knife. Against a seven-foot-lion-lady-hybrid that was currently trying to bite her head off. Of course.

“Toni!”

She didn’t know who called her name, but the instinctive response saved her. She dropped onto her stomach in a second, just as a shadow soared over her. Once she looked up, she found the jackalope laying on top of the sphynx as the lion tried to fight it off.

_Great, now even the beasts were trying to win this thing._

She looked back to try and make sense of her name being called only to find the knight that had tried to talk to her earlier, Dot, standing a few feet from the boulder, her helmet gone, and her face covered in blood. She was watching the sphynx and the jackalope fighting with wide eyes. Toni considered jumping her for a moment. The knife wasn’t so bad against humans, she guessed, and Dot was distracted. But the bare idea of it made her stomach churn.

Instead, she did something she promised herself she wouldn’t do. She climbed off the boulder and approached her, “Hey Dot! What’d you say we take ‘em together?”

The knight turned to her and a small smile appeared on her blood-stained face, “One price for each?”

Toni nodded. As the battle raged around them, warriors fighting each other, some trying to get across the river, some fighting the creatures, Dot took her time to think about it. After a beat, she nodded back.

And they sprinted over to the beasts.

//

A tight pain coursed through Rachel’s shoulder. She had sprained it, for sure, but she wasn’t going to worry about it now. Besides, the drakon in front of her clearly didn’t care.

The beast was huge, with a ten-foot-long scaly body, ten-inch claws made of steel and a mouth full of fangs with enough venom to put any of the other beasts around to sleep in a second. Its roar was the worst, though. Rachel’d already seen how it had paralyzed two other knights who’d quickly become the drakon’s meal. She wasn’t going to let that happen to her.

She raised her sword and called for the beast, taunting it, “C’mon!” she called, her voice cracking with strength, “Come at me, beast! Come to die!”

The drakon charged, and Rachel charged too. As the creature’s mouth opened Rachel jumped. She managed to land close enough for the beast to chop off her head but, just before its fangs started closing around her, she raised her shield.

The round metal piece, about three feet in diameter, caught itself in between the drakon’s jaws, locking them in place. Rachel immediately dropped and rolled away as the creature thrashed and roared, trying to get the shield out of its mouth, but it was impossible now. Rachel smiled.

She was about to attack again, finding her target in one of the drakon’s eyes since its body was covered in scales as strong as armor, when another knight appeared and jumped at the creature. In a second, he’d slashed at the drakon’s neck, right under its ear. And the creature dropped to the ground, dead. The crowd roared around them.

“NO!” Rachel screamed as the cocky warrior strolled round the drakon’s neck to find the relic tied to its neck. It was a chalice, tied to the drakon by a golden threat the knight’s sword cut through easily. He raised it in the air and the multitude’s volume climbed impossibly higher. Rachel charged.

She tackled him to the ground and the chalice fell off his hands.

“That’s _my_ chalice!” she screamed in his face as she reached up to hold down his sword hand. The man struggled under Rachel’s weight, but it was already won on Rachel’s side. She pinned down his arm and knocked him out with a headbutt to the forehead, right where she knew she could hit with little force and obtain a good result. She’d tried in on Nora a million times until she could do it perfectly.

As she raised her head, she found the chalice laying on the dusty ground a few feet away. She jumped to her feet and picked it up. Finally.

“And the first relic has been collected, folks!” a voice above the crowd’s roar pulled at Rachel’s attention. There was a commentator, it appeared, as a man stood on a stool by the King’s balcony and held a strange contraption to his lips while he screamed, “Let’s see how the rest fare!”

That’s when she noticed the mod.

A few feet away, to her right where some fighters used to be dueling now stood a group of about five knights staring angrily at her.

Rachel ran.

//

Toni fell hard and the wind escaped her lungs in an instant.

“Fuck.” She muttered as she rolled onto her side to try and stand up.

Two other warriors had joined hers and Dot’s charge at the two beasts, but they’d already been taken out, so to speak. killed, really. Toni didn’t look. If she had, her stomach would have been emptied in an instant and the whole crowd would have booed her. Better not to look.

She raised her head from her spot on the floor and found Dot, her shield locked onto the sphynx’s claws as she tried to get her sword to strike. Behind the sphynx, the jackalope was watching Toni with hungry eyes, ready to pounce. _Fuck._

She rolled over until she couldn't see anything. She stopped for a moment and found the jackalope right where she’d been a moment before.

“Toni, a little help over here?!” Dot’s voice was strained, and Toni scolded herself. They needed to get this under control and quickly.

“In a minute!” She screamed back as she rose to her feet. That’s when a spark to her right caught her eye and an idea struck her. She was close to the walls, about six feet in front of them, and a plan started to build inside her racing mind. She called to the jackalope, “Hey! Asshat! You shitty rabbit, c’mere!”

The jackalope looked at her and, after a moment, seemed to understand the insult. It screeched. Toni stepped back. The creature pounced once again, and Toni jumped and rolled to the right.

As she’d though, the distance to the arena’s wall was short enough that the jackalope landed, but the momentum from its massive weight had it crushing against the limestone with a pleasant and thunderous thud.

Toni smiled.

She turned to the spark she’d seen before and found, laying on the ground, some fallen knight’s sword. It was big and heavy and awkward in her unexperienced hands, but it was better than a knife, so Toni returned the small blade to her belt and picked the bigger one. She walked back to the knocked out jackalope and considered her options. She could kill it to eliminate the danger of it possibly waking up, or she could simply take the relic hanging from its neck and run.

The crowd’s roar rose higher then, and the commentator’s voice was heard again, “And the mighty jackalope is down! It is time for the kill!”

And they started chanting. _‘Kill! Kill! Kill!’_

Toni’s stomach churned yet again, and the jackalope stirred a little.

She brought down the sword on the animal’s neck, closing her eyes as the tip of the weapon made contact with the fur and slid in easily. The crowd was maniac. They started chanting, then, ‘Badger! Badger! Badger!’

//

Dot was scared.

Two out of the four relics already had an owner and even if she was happy the little badger knight got one for herself, she was still very far from defeating the sphynx. And don’t even ask her about the three other knights that were trying to steal the kill from her.

She was starting to lose faith as the animal roared and jumped over her but then something happened, causing the sphynx to fall to the side, a spear bulging out of her side. The creature roared in agony as Dot looked up to find a girl standing on the central hill’s side, drenched from head to toe, with a chalice on her hand and a frantic smile on her face. The girl saluted Dot and Dot, in a haze, returned it. The girl sprinted off then, towards the goblet.

_What?_

But there was no time to stop and think as the other knights had already sprinted towards the dying sphynx’s neck. Dot charged.

She slashed and pushed with her shield, trying not to kill but harm, but the knights weren’t making it easy on her. One of them fell to the floor, a gash on his knee spurring blood by the gallon onto the arena’s floor. But the two others just kept on coming at Dot, relentlessly.

Suddenly, a voice from behind her had her crackling up, “Fuck off, cocksucker!”

She found an opening in her opponent’s defenses then and raised her sword’s arm to hit him on the helmet with the hilt of her blade, heavy, and the man fell back. She turned to find Toni arduously fighting off the other knight that remained on his feet. Dot easily approached him and pushed him off of her and together, they knocked him off.

“Thanks.” Dot, breathless, couldn’t believe it. Toni offered her a sly smile, “Well, you saved me before, this was the least I could do.”

Then she noticed the relic held tightly on Toni’s left hand, a tiara, and smiled.

“Let’s win this thing, then.”

She approached the sphynx, still roaring and churning in the dirt and for a moment she felt bad about killing it. But then she remembered the sting of the gash it’d managed to land on her back, right where her armor faltered, and she raised her sword.

//

Surprisingly, Toni could swim, so they crossed the river quickly, leaving behind most of Dot's heavy armor, its weight enough to drown even the most expert of swimmers. The only problem now were the four champions that were at their heels that had also managed to cross and were after the relics on their hands. But Toni was fast, faster than anyone Dot had ever met, so she carried the relics while Dot fought off any attack they suffered.

They made it to the top with only some minor injuries but, above all, with no one else at their tail. Toni passed Dot her relic – a golden belt buckle shaped like an eagle – and they shared a tired look before setting them on the goblet.

The other girl, who stood by and watched them, gave them an approving look before turning towards the King’s balcony. Dot and Toni followed suit as the crowd exploded in maniac screams. Above it all, Dot heard the claims of ‘Wild Hog’ and ‘Badger’ the loudest, and she wondered what the other girl’s emblem was.

“Three down, one to go!” the commentator’s voice rose again, “And then the glory and honor of the Gods shall bless you as the Order’s new initiates!”

"Thanks for the save," Dot called, "with the sphynx and the spear. You saved my life."

She caught the girl smiling smugly from the corner of her eye before she heard her speak, "Yeah well, don't get used to it."


	2. Day One

There were seven trials throughout the day, with four winners each, meaning in the end, as the sun came down over the palace walls and the feast was started, there were twenty-eight sweaty initiates to congratulate at the palace’s entrance.

Shelby went through all of them as if in a dream. Shaking their hands, smiling at their kind words, nodding at their devotion and their promises of grandeur, of protection, of loyalty. She remembered Martha’s friend, the short knight, and smiled a little wider when she met her, but the girl didn’t even return the smile. Her eyes were dark and hectic, and she scorned as Shelby offered her her hand to kiss, like she didn’t want to be there. Had she been a little more present, a little less lost in the fog that had followed her during the past six days, Shelby might have even scolded her.

But she didn’t. Instead, she passed onto the next fighter and congratulated him, and the next, and the next, and the next.

The feast was to be held in the palace’s biggest room, the one-hundred-year-old Aethalia Hall, named after the famous warrior princess, of course.

At the end of the room, in front of the eastern wall, with the sun setting on the tall windows behind them was the central table made of pure gold set up on a small stage that also held the King’s, Queen’s, the High Priest’s and the Princesses and Prince’ thrones, along with a few of their closest Lords and Ladies. Shelby wondered who’d be there. She wished Martha would be able to sit with her, but she doubted it. Martha, as close as her and Shelby’d gotten since Martha’d gotten the job three years ago, was still her servant, and servants didn’t sit with royalty. She would stand back, against the wall, and wait for Shelby to need anything from her.

Surrounding the main table were huge columns of marble and gold that held up the massive, vaulted ceiling that rose almost a hundred feet above the ground. Long wooden tables had been set at the center for the rest of the attendees, with enough food for a century, and enough servants carrying drinks to fill an ocean. And the room started filling rapidly with the knights, Sirs and Dames, and Lords and Ladies, and her father’s consorts and advisors, and so many other men and women Shelby didn’t know or cared much to meet, that their faces started melting together. Their kind words floated around her, like waves of gold and silver, laced with venomous smiles and side-eyes.

She was actually preparing herself for a long, absurdly loud and boring night, before something stopped her. Approaching the table, eyes set on her father to her left, Shelby found a friend.

She recognized her from the portraits, of course, but it was still a surprise to find her life-long pen pal arriving at a feast in the palace. Lady Leah was walking forth with a pleased enough smile, eyes of a deep blue color, and a long, stylish dress made of pastel-blue satin. A wonderful necklace adorned her exposed shoulders and cleavage, and about ten little fresh daisies crowned her mahogany hair. She was followed by two handmaidens as she bowed to Shelby’s father before turning to Shelby.

“Dear friend,” she said, her voice strained, and intense eyes locked onto Shelby’s, “it is quite good to finally meet you. I am sorry it is under quite the strange circumstances.”

Then, she reached forward and took Shelby’s hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. She smiled but there was an urgency in her eyes that didn’t make much sense to Shelby. And then she felt it. Between Leah’s warm hands, a piece of parchment was being slipped, placed in her own palm right before a second squeeze.

“Oh Leah, I’m so glad you came.” Shelby immediately caught on, smiling compliantly and leaning forward to speak, “You _must_ come to my chamber tomorrow so we can have some tea and play that game of chess we always talked about in our letters.”

Leah’s eyes sparkled as she slowly smiled, “Of course, Your Highness.”

Then, she let go of her hand and nodded before bowing again and turning away.

Another Lord replaced her, a middle-aged man with a belly that made him look like a pregnant woman, explaining how proud he was to have seen her grow into such a beautiful young woman. But Shelby wasn’t listening; her eyes were set on the Lord’s, her smile portrait-perfect, but her hands were twirling the piece of parchment under the table as she anxiously waited for the right time to read it.

//

If there’s one thing Fatin appreciated about being a Lady, it was the Wild Knights.

Because there were always boring dinners and celebrations, and tight corsets, and a billion smelly, old men ogling her while they pretended to listen to her father’s words during meetings. But it all went away when she got to meet _them_. Everywhere she went: muscley, stoic, handsome, oozing stamina and confidence in those thick green cloaks and heavy armor. Women or men, it didn’t really matter. They were the highlight of Fatin’s boring little existence, really.

She had six under her belt already, and that’s not even counting the regular King’s Knights she’d been with.

There was an ovation when the doors opened and the guard posted there announced their entrance, of course. Fatin stayed seated, though, knowing full well they’d eventually pass right next to her in their way to the main table, and that’s when she’d make her move.

They marched in two straight lines, their robes brand new with the green cloak, the shiny, brown leather boots and pants, and the Insulam insignia embroidered into their green chests in golden threads; a lion protecting a tree from a snake under its paw, just as a sun rose from the tree’s top branches. Their hairs were washed and perfumed, their beards trimmed and combed with rich, expensive oils. The tallest ones opened the parade, a ginger man, twice her size in tall and width, with a beard that reached his bellybutton, and a woman with intense, daring eyes the color of honey and dark skin. Behind them, trailed the rest, all equally handsome and proud, their heads uncovered, and their hands fitted with the Order’s golden ring. Fatin was excited.

As they approached, Fatin turned around with the rest at her table and clapped, a white little handkerchief pressed between two fingers.

But then she noticed the Lady.

She’d cut her hair, obviously, very short and choppy. And her skin looked tanner, and she stared ahead with a look in her eyes that strayed so far from what Fatin had always seen in there that she almost missed her. But she was there, alright, and Fatin saw her, and giddy excitement started coursing through her veins.

So, she waited until she was almost in front of her before she let go of the handkerchief and it slowly fell to the Hall’s marbled floor. It caught the Knight’s eye, of course, and she stepped out of line to retrieve it.

_Who ever said chivalry was dead?_

But then the Knight raised her eyes to deliver the handkerchief to Fatin’s waiting hands, and her face fell.

Fatin lifted a mischievous eyebrow as she slowly smiled, reaching for the Knight’s frozen hand to retrieve the piece of fabric herself, “Well, thank you very much, handsome Knight. What is your name? So that I can thank you _properly_.”

She seemed to stutter for a moment before straightening herself, bowing slightly as a rosy tint covered her cheeks, and said, “Dot Grinnell, My Lady. And, uh, I am not yet a Knight, I’m afraid. Still just an initiate.”

Her eyes remained down as if in efforts to avoid Fatin recognizing her, but she’d already failed miserably as Fatin continued to smile, reveling in the sensation of everyone’s eyes on her and the knowledge that she was the only one who actually knew who was in front of her, “Oh well, dear _Initiate_ Grinnell, I am very thankful for your services and I surely hope to see you…around.”

Dot nodded a small bow before scurrying back into formation as the lines of Knights were almost reaching the main table.

Fatin smiled, twisting the handkerchief in her hands.

This whole ordeal had suddenly become _much_ more entertaining.

Her childhood friend, Lady Dorothy Campbell, daughter of Lord Campbell, the King’s Royal General, was there and she was _not_ who she said she was.

//

Toni inhaled food. She didn’t chew, she didn’t swallow, she didn’t taste anything. She just inhaled. Luckily, they’d all been seated on a table far from the King’s, so Rachel’s embarrassment at having to seat beside the shorter girl was somehow dampened a little.

“By the Gods, at least use your fork!” That was _it_. Toni’d just reached out and picked a whole turkey’s leg and was taking it up to her mouth when Rachel’s words, and her knife, intervened.

She reached out and stabbed the piece of meat exactly between Toni’s middle and ring finger, and she pulled, forcing the leg away from her face and down onto her plate before the other girl could bite into it.

“Hey! Fuck you, it’s my meat!” Toni called loud enough to earn a few looks from the knights around them as she pulled her hand from where the knife had almost caught her, “You could’ve cut me.”

Rachel sneered, “I know my way around knives well enough, _kid_. You’re fine. Now use your cutlery or I’ll have to kick you out of this dinner.”

“Oh, and who are you? the meat guard?” Toni mocked as she leaned it, her face contorted in anger only inches from Rachel’s. On the other hand, Rachel fought to keep her features as calm as she could.

“No, just someone who is willing to beat the shit out of you if you embarrass me in front of our King.”

Toni rolled her eyes and smiled, “Oh, I get it. You’re one of _those_ guys.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow.

“Y’know?” she asked sardonically, “The kind who suffer just like the rest of us poor people but like to think themselves better than the rest because of some sort of headless, royalty kink? You’re just loyal as fuck to a sucker you’ve never even met, and who cares as much for you as he cares for the shit he takes every morning.”

Rachel punched Toni. She wasn’t proud of it, but the sight of the girl falling back from the wooden bench they shared, her head smashing against the floor as blood sprouted from her nose and her legs came up comically from under the table did bring a satisfied smile to her face. But it was short-lived as Toni sprung to her feet in a second, hands reaching up to protect her face as she pulled back a fist that soon connected with Rachel’s surprised jaw.

“Hey, you two! Stop that!”

Rachel was about to retaliate, whole body turned away from the table, almost standing now, when a strong hand grabbed her wrist midair. She turned, fury bright in her honey-colored eyes, only to find Dot’s angry face in front of hers. She was looking disapprovingly at her as she reached from across the table and held her other hand close as a warning.

Rachel scoffed, pulling her hand from Dot’s grip before turning back to the table.

“Atta girl. Calm down, for fuck’s sake. We’re almost knights now, not toddlers, remember?”

Both girls scoffed and looked away.

Toni took her time settling back but, once she did, she picked her cutlery up before eyeing the turkey leg again. Rachel smiled.

But the girl didn’t eat.

Rachel watched her through the corner of her eye, and she found Toni seemed to be trying to figure out how to hold the two pieces of silver, stealing small glances at the rest of the Knights eating around them. So, she set her own down and turned to her.

“You use the fork to poke stuff, and the knife to cut it.”

Toni turned with an angry scowl. She still had some dried-up blood on her face even if she’d used her robe’s sleeve to try and clean herself up.

“I don’t need your help. I know how to do it.”

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“Look.”

She picked her own and made a show of the position of her fingers and then of cutting the piece of roast that was sitting on her plate, half-eaten.

Toni scoffed and turned away.

Rachel rolled her eyes again and decided to give up on her.

“Alright. If you want to eat like an uneducated moron, that’s your loss.”

She turned back to her plate instead, and bit into the piece of roast. And it was delicious, just as everything else on the table. There was wine, fine wine, that tasted of sweet cherry and cinnamon. And ale, of course, and apple pie, and baked potatoes, dripping in butter, and more fruits and vegetables that Rachel even knew existed, some with vibrant purple colors or strange smells that dared her to taste them, and–

Something caught her eyes.

She looked up from the food, trying to catch it again, and she saw her.

Nora.

She was standing off to the side, her back to the Hall’s wall as people around her laughed and walked and ate, almost like a painting. But Rachel recognized those curls and the skittish look in her eyes. Even if she now wore a handmaiden’s dress, she could still recognize her twin wherever she went.

And she was furious.

//

Leah’s day was starting to go from worse to bat-shit-crazy. Firstly, she’d woken up to the news of her favorite handmaiden, Theodora, had gotten sick throughout the night, but that there was another girl who would replace her. Perfect.

And even if the girl was nice enough, with strong and deftly fingers that had her corset tightened in no time, Leah still didn’t like her. She said her name was Nora and her voice was small and hesitant, but Leah could see strength in her eyes. No, she didn’t trust her one bit.

First the letter, now the handmaiden.

And then, she’d found that knight with the scar milling about outside of her room in the palace.

She hadn’t noticed, at first, her nose deep inside a book she’d found on her palace’s room. But then the sound of muffled words reached her ears and caught her attention. She’d dispatched her handmaidens about an hour ago to have some peace and quiet after lunch and before the rest of the Garner trials resumed, so it had to be someone else. She slowly creeped towards her door and the voices grew a bit louder.

“…I’m not sure I can do it; I could get in serious trouble.”

“Look, just go where I told you and do as I said, and we’ll take care of your sister, alright? That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

She’d jumped at the doorknob, pulling it open only to find a Wild Knight standing in the middle of the corridor, staring into the empty hall to the left. Leah’d interrogated him, but he’d denied even opening his mouth.

She knew something was up, but she didn’t trust anyone to speak of it, and that’s why she’d decided to trust the one person who maybe knew at least _something_. Or in the very least it was someone who could explain the strange letter. And who she knew personally, at least to an extent. Shelby.

So now, as she sat on her table by the northern wall, she couldn’t keep her eyes away from the Princess, waiting for her to read her message. It was a lost cause, though, since Shelby appeared to be much too interested on the conversation going on around her, teasing her siblings, and conversing in hushed words with her father.

//

Nora didn’t get to see the High Priest’s grand entrance, but she didn’t really care. Even if Franklyn, the guard who’d helped her take over Theodora’s job, said it was the highlight of the evening, Nora had been more than ecstatic about seeing her sister, front of the line, parading for the Lords and Ladies of the Realm. With her dark green cloak, chest engraved in gold, brown polished boots and hair pulled back in intricate braids and adorned with beautiful ribbons. Rachel’d looked beautiful and regal and proud, and Nora couldn’t be happier to see her sister fulfill her lifelong dream. And so, she was happy when she quietly left the Hall.

The man with the three suns engraved in his chest plate, emblem of House Jadmani, looked nervous, which meant he probably was the person Nora was looking for.

“Hi,” she said hesitantly as she approached, the man immediately startled, looking around until his eyes found Nora amongst the darkness of the hallway. If it hadn’t been for the torch he carried, Nora was sure she wouldn’t have recognized him either, “Who’s there?”

His voice was insistent, yet it quivered. Someone who wanted to appear strong, thought Nora. She shuffled closer, “I’m Nora? Dyn Alexander told me to meet the guard with the three suns here, tonight.”

“Oh, the handmaiden.” The man straightened himself and cleared his throat, now much calmer, “Don’t say our names out loud like that, alright? Someone could hear.”

“The whole hallway’s empty.” Nora reasoned, raising her hands to show the empty space around them, “And I needed to identify myself somehow.”

The guard rolled his eyes, “Alright, whatever. Here’s what we have to–”

“What’s your name?” Nora interrupted. He clearly was who she was looking for and this may be a bit of nonessential information, but if she didn’t confirm his identity the thought would haunt her for the next three days at least.

The guard rolled his eyes again before switching the torch from one hand to the other.

“Thom,” he said, “I will be sailing alongside you to the Isle. But no one can know we know each other, is that clear? That’s the most important part of your job.”

Nora nodded.

“I will be watching Lady Fatin,” he continued, “Jeanette and Alex are in charge of getting close to the Princess and the High Priest, and _you_ are in charge of Lady Leah. She suspects something, you must keep her quiet, understood?”

Nora nodded, “How– How do I do that?”

The guard, Thom, sighed heavily before shrugging, “I don’t know, mislead her? In a worst-case-scenario give her this,” he pulled from his belt a vial, smaller than Nora’s palm and sealed with a cork and some wax, “And go find any of us. It’ll _silence her forever_ , if you know what I mean. We can take over then.”

Nora gulped down a protest before nodding.

“I understand.”

Thom nodded back once before turning and leaving. And Nora hurried to return to the Hall, hoping her absence hadn’t been too noticeable.

Nora was reaching for the massive pine doors at the entrance of the Hall when they opened on their own and out spilled none other than Rachel.

“Nora!”

Her sister pushed her back before Nora could speak.

“The fuck are you doing here, huh?” her eyes were rabid as Rachel towered over her, pushing, stepping closer and closer until Nora was pressed against the palace’s smooth wall.

Nora raised her arms to try and stop her sister’s shoves, “I just wanted to make sure you were alright!”

“I don’t _need_ you, Nora. When are you going to realize it! I don’t need you and I don’t _want_ you.” she was seething, “So leave me the fuck alone. Forget I was ever your sister. I’m here now, and I’m a Knight, alright? I _made_ it. And all on my own. Without you, get that? Doesn’t that just make you boil over? I did it all on my own.”

A wicked smile crept up Rachel’s lips as she gave Nora one last push before turning and walking back into the Hall, “Don’t you dare come close to me or say anything about me. We’re not sisters anymore. I belong to the Order. I don’t need you.”

//

Shelby only had one memory of her uncle. She was about five or six, and she was out playing on the beach behind the palace’s gardens with her mother. It was one of Shelby’s most precious memories. Before the pressures, before her father took her under his wing, before the tight dresses and the perfect smiles and the watch-for-everything-you’re-saying-because-it-could-cause-a-diplomatic-scandal-if-you-say-the-wrong-thing-to-this-or-that-ambassador. Before being a princess was anything more than a pretty tiara that used to fall off her hair when she run around too much.

And she was there, with her mom and her mom’s handmaidens and the sun was up high in the sky and she was playing with the sand as her mother sang her an old song when a big, bearded man appeared. He greeted them with laughter and kind words, wrapped his arms around her mother and pulled her in, lifting her off her feet as they joked and laughed. Shelby couldn’t remember what they laughed about, but she could remember their laughter, as clear as day. Then, the man had turned to Shelby and his eyes had flashed a golden shine for a moment, before returning to their emerald green. It had scared Shelby and she’d run to hide behind her mother’s skirt, but she’d cooed her out of her hiding with kind words, until the man pulled her into another warm hug and lifter her onto his shoulders. Shelby remembered laughing as his thick, blond beard tickled her bare feet and her fingers clung to his short, golden locks.

They’d played on the beach until the sun set low and her father came to fetch her and her mom. As they were leaving the beach, climbing the stairs back into the palace gardens, she remembered looking back and seeing her uncle and her father arguing.

Now, though, his hair was longer, and his face was covered in wrinkles, and his skin was tanner. And his eyes, much like Shelby’s, appeared to have settled into an eternal gold. It looked like he’d spent the last ten years in that same beach, just staring into the sun and absorbing its light. His hair was longer and lighter, too, and his beard had turned a ginger color, much like Shelby’s dad’s hair.

He still wore the green uniform of the Order and the white-and-gold sash of the High Priest hung from his left shoulder like an endless, crystalline waterfall. But he looked tired, rundown, as he approached the main table and, unlike most of the Lords around, he didn’t come accompanied by squires or flashy bannermen. Even if he did have a whole Order of Wild Knights under his command, he walked alone.

When their eyes crossed, Shelby offered him one of her rare, sincere smiles, and she saw his eyes flickering between gold and green before settling on a strange hazel color as he smiled back. Shelby wondered what all that was about.

She knew the legends, of course; how the old songs and poems called the Order’s warriors ‘Golden Eyed Demigods’ because of the Gods’ blessings. But those were the old days. Now, like her, there was only one in every generation of Goodkind ancestors who wore the blessing. Only one, only Goodkind blood. That was part of the reason why many, many years back, the Great King Elijah Goodkind had risen above his fellow lords and taken the title of King and High Priest after the Battle of the Rivers. Through the years, of course, the titles had been separated, leaving the Order to the blessed child, and the kingdom to their siblings.

Her uncle, Shelby thought as he approached them, had been High Priest since before she was even born and now, as he greeted Shelby’s father, the realization dawned on her that the moment he would step down and _she_ would become High Priestess herself was approaching terribly fast.

“My dearest brother!” Her father’s voice boomed through the silent Hall. On the far corner, Shelby’s eye caught the sight of the Order’s initiates rising to their feet and saluting, their right hand over their hearts, three fingers in the form of a claw.

Uncle Nathaniel bowed, one knee on the floor, before smiling, “My King, brother David. It’s been too long.”

“Too long indeed, come closer.”

Uncle Nathaniel approached the table and the King stood to reach with his hands and cradle Nathaniel’s face, inspecting it. He smiled then, before pulling his brother in and embracing him.

“Dear Lords and Ladies, and everyone here!” the King called as they separated, a smile on his face, one hand gripping his brother’s shoulder tightly and the other picking his goblet full of wine, “I give to you my brother Nathaniel, your High Priest. The man in charge of connecting our kingdom to the Gods and keeping them in our favor. He’s to thank for the crops and cattle we dine on, and the grapes that make our wine, and the gold that adorns our bodies, and the steel that protects us, and the silk that drapes us all!”

The whole room cheered, their voices powered by the ale and wine they’d already consumed. But Shelby didn’t watch the crowd, she watched her uncle as he nodded solemnly and said, “Thank you very much, my brother. I am delighted and very thankful for such a welcome. And I will surely tell the Gods about your gratitude for everything they provide.”

The crowd cheered again before Shelby’s father spoke, “Please, take a seat with us. And for the rest; eat, drink, enjoy!”

Shelby lost sight of him once he rounded the table and sat to her father’s left, while she sat to his right, with her mother between her and the King. But she made a mental note to send Martha over to his chambers, once the feast was over, and ask for an audience. She was dying to understand. And to reconnect.

//

Toni’s stomach ached.

Last night had been the best night of her life, but she’d allowed herself to be taken by the amounts of food in front of her and she hadn’t considered her stomach was only used to so little. So, she’d spent the whole night tossing and turning on her brand new, pillow-included, bed, without getting to sleep even for a second. And now, she’d had to skip breakfast as she’d rushed to the communal bathrooms to throw up.

“Your little beggar’s stomach wasn’t up for last night’s feast, it appears.” A voice called from outside the bathroom’s door as Toni washed her face and hands on a little bowl of fresh water. She stepped outside, hands balled up into fists, only to find a cocky pair of brown eyes watching her with disdain. The man was an initiate, she remembered him from last night’s feast, but he was already sporting an armor.

“Fuck off.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at her as he smiled, “You should just go back to whatever pit you crawled out from. Stop wasting our time. You’re clearly not cut out for knighthood.”

Toni was boiling. She was about to jump on him when a voice called from the courtyard, “Shalifoe, Grinnell, Miller and Reid! You’re up!”

Toni swallowed; her anger forgotten for a moment. She spared the man in front of her a look before grunting and sprinting off. He was going to get what he deserved, but for now Toni had other problems. She didn’t forget his smug face, though, as he watched her leave. It looked as if he knew something she didn’t. It made Toni’s blood simmer.

“Hey, ease up there. We’re only getting our armor fitted.” Dot commented as Toni stepped in line beside her, heaving with bottled-up rage, “There’s no one to fight yet.”

Toni didn’t respond, she just gritted her teeth tighter. Her stomach still ached, and she was irritated by her previous encounter so, even if she’d started getting used to Dot’s teasing and commenting, it still rubbed her the wrong way every now and then.

Beside her, she watched as Rachel and a young man with hair the color of dirty sunlight approached. They were all wearing the same black gambeson with the order’s golden embroidery in the chest, the same leather pants, and the same boots as her; and even if they’d given Toni the smallest ones there were, all the clothes still fit her rather ill. Same had happened with the ceremonial robes from the night before, too. It appeared she was the shortest Knight the Order had ever had.

Rachel and the boy stood along the line as Dyn Marius looked them over. He was a large man, dressed in armor and the green cloak, and with a frown that looked like it’d permanently attached itself to his face years ago.

“Welcome to The Insulam Temple. Here there are no titles. We’re all the same in the eyes of the Gods. Those of you who were King’s Knights or Lords or whatever are now simple initiates, you hear me? So, I don’t want anyone parading about like they’re better than anyone else. You’re all little pieces of shit who need to prove your worth before being accepted. The sooner you learn that the better. Here, you’re only judged by the courage of your soul. Clear?”

As they went through the line inspecting the four of them his eyes stopped for a moment on Toni’s face and he looked her over twice. She glared as he moved on.

“You four will be a team. From now on, you must trust and support each other as brothers and sisters, you hear me?”

They all nodded curtly.

“Alright, follow me.”

The burly, bald man started down the yard in a second and the four of them scurried behind.

The courtyard was far from empty. Around them were about a hundred square feet of dirt covered in various different training courses. There were mannequins currently being assaulted by initiates with wooden swords; there was a tower to the far right where a few men were trying to escalate it with not much success. There were horses beside it being groomed by a girl with a green cloak, and a shooting range somewhere to Toni’s left. All of the people taking part on the activities wore the same armor as the guy who’d teased Toni over their black gambeson. A chainmail along with pieces of shoulder guards and chest plates, but nothing complete like the Wild Knights she’d seen out and about.

“It’s so we slowly get used to the weight.” Dot whispered in Toni’s ear, startling her. The taller girl had been walking beside her and watching the people around them too and had apparently noticed Toni’s confused eyebrows.

“How much does it weight?” Toni tried to hide her uneasiness, but it was hard. She was scrawny and malnourished. Strength had never been her best suit. She was fast and angry and resilient, and that was usually enough. But fighting with a ton of metal on top of her was definitely something she could not overcome with some bottled-up fury.

“Don’t worry, Toni, you’ll get used to it.”

Toni doubted it.

At the other end they entered through a small door simply labeled ‘Armory’. Everything seemed to work like that around here, Toni thought. The Capital City’s Insulam Temple was the largest of all the temples around the kingdom because it was were initiates lived and trained. But for all the grandeur it sported from the outside, on the inside it was nothing more than a crappy Inn, in Toni’s opinion. The walls were all made of clear-cut stone and the floor of polished wood. Everything was clean and there were torches and candles for the night. Most of the hallways were open and led to the central courtyard where they trained, but there were no portraits, no statues, no jewels or gold or silver. The rooms had a bed and a chest and a desk, but nothing more. The curtains were of the same green as the cloaks, as were the bedspreads, but that was all. Everything else was white or stone or wood.

Toni had to admit she was a little disappointed. But at least the temple was warm at night.

The armory was much the same, except there were weapons covering almost every surface or wall. Mounted onto wooden stands were swords of all lengths and sizes. There were about a million arrows fitted into leather quivers everywhere, and there were stacks of shields and hammers and a lot of other steel instruments Toni couldn’t even name on top of tables and shelves and chairs and even on the floor. Near the middle of the room there where a man and a woman hunched over a table. When Dyn Marius cleared his throat, they both turned to him.

“The last four,” announced Marius, “Jamie, start with the little one, I think she’ll need a few _special adjustments_. Oscar, take the rest.”

Toni bit her tongue to try and stay quiet. She pressed her nails to the soft of her palm, digging with all her force.

“Alright then, c’mon kid.” The woman called, a thick northern accent coating her voice.

Toni remained on her spot, trying not to burst at them. After a moment, the anger flashed away. She breathed out and looked at the woman who stared back expectantly, “Well? I ain’t got all day, Squid.”

“Squid?”

She sighed, “Come along.” And turned, walking in deeper into the armory. Toni followed just as the other man took out a piece of leather string and started measuring Dot’s arms.

“Alright Squid.” The woman stopped beside a row of dusty closets. She opened the first to reveal thousands of metal armor pieces, most of them bent or broken. She turned to Toni and looked her up and down, “That gambeson doesn’t even fit you, does it?”

“Why do you call me Squid?” she asked instead, a bite to her voice she was actively trying to control but failing.

“Do you prefer Badger? Like that emblem you stole?” but the woman didn’t seem to care for Toni’s disrespect. At least not as much as the rest of the Knights.

Toni was taken aback as the woman smiled, “Ah yes, I know Sir Browl’s tactics. He’s been doing it for years now. Getting some random girl to champion for him. A coward, if you ask me. But we’ve received quite the few strong knights that way, so I’m not really complaining.”

“That doesn’t explain the ‘Squid’ part.”

“I saw your trial. You’re very small and agile, but you have no technique, your form’s all messed up, like a squid.”

Toni tried to ignore the ‘short’ part, “Squids aren’t fucking agile.”

The woman snickered, “You’ve never even seen a squid. C’mon now. Let’s fit you up.”

//

Martha came back into her room the next morning, early as always, and opened the curtains with a cheery call, “Wake up, Your Highness, High Priest Nathaniel has requested your presence in his chambers for breakfast. I didn’t even have to bother him with requesting a meeting, he requested it himself!”

The small amount of sleep that still clung to Shelby’s eyelids was suddenly gone as the girl jumped from the bed and turned to Martha, “Oh Martha! That’s wonderful, thank you so much!”

The High Priest’s chambers were just one of the palace’s many guest bedrooms. There was a giant bed, a balcony, many small tables and cushions and armchairs, and a small side room where there was a fireplace and a larger table. That’s where Uncle Nathaniel was currently sitting, shifting through an old leather diary in his hands, a full breakfast set in front of him, untouched.

“Hello, Uncle.” Shelby called slowly. He looked up and she bowed as customs say, but she heard him chuckle, “Please, child. Don’t bow before me. In the eyes of the Gods, you and I are as equals as equals come.”

Shelby smiled.

“Please, sit.”

His voice was kind even if he had a rough appearance. Now, without the ceremonial gowns of last night, his hair was messy, and his beard was tangled, and he simply wore a pair of light brown pants and boots, and a white undershirt. Shelby couldn’t help comparing him to her own father. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him in anything other than his royal gowns or his armor. His hair always combed back, his crown almost always in place.

Shelby didn’t know which one she preferred.

“This is the isle’s diary.” He started, sliding the leatherbound book across the table as Shelby took her place in front of him. She picked it up. It was heavy, heavier than she anticipated, and warm, almost like it was emitting heat on its own, “In it I, and all of the High Priests and Priestesses before us, have written everything we believe there is to know about our job.”

Shelby suddenly felt like she should be wearing gloves and touching the thing with much more careful fingers.

“Oh, Uncle, thank you so much. I don’t know what to say. This is invaluable.”

He chuckled, “Well yes, it is indeed, so please do take good care of it.”

“I will.”

“Good. So, onto more pressing matters.” He clasped his hands in front of himself and straightened his back. Shelby put the book to the side and imitated him, “Your training will start tomorrow morning. The Passage ceremony to name you High Priestess will be in a week’s time and, by then, I won’t be able to teach you anything more, you hear me?”

Shelby nodded.

“So, it’s of utmost importance that you pay good attention and that we cover everything.” He smiled briefly, then continued, “I know this must be a lot and you’re young – even younger than I was when I was blessed – but I do believe you can handle it. Your mother and father are strong, and I’m sure they passed that down onto you.”

Shelby nodded feeling pride blossom inside her chest. Yes, she was strong, and hardworking, and smart. She could do this.

“Any questions before we start?”

Shelby stuttered. She had so many, but they all seemed to crowd in her head, mushing together, undecipherable.

All except one, “What’s up with the eyes?”

Nathaniel laughed. Right now, they were again that hazel color Shelby’d noticed last night. But hers remained golden.

“It’s a sort of defense mechanism.” He started, gesturing with his hands to his eyes, “Once you start practicing, you’ll be able to control it, see?”

Suddenly, his eyes glazed over and turned a steely golden color, dark and muted.

“They’re like the claws on a cat’s paw. When they feel they’re in danger they pull out their claws and attack. When they feel safe, the claws retract and there’s only soft little pillows in their place.”

He blinked several times, taking in a deep breathe, and leaned closer to show her his eyes again, and they were back to that emerald green Shelby remembered from that beach so long ago.

“They represent the state of mind you are in. If your defenses are up or not, your powers answer to those feelings naturally.”

But then why did Shelby’s remain covered in that golden hue?

//

Toni really tried.

She made a list of the things that were bothering her, even, to try and put them away somewhere in her mind and instead concentrate on the task at hand.

  1. Her stomach still ached.
  2. She was now hungry on top of it.
  3. The sun was burning high in the sky, they hadn’t had a break in almost three hours, and the tons of clothing and metal she was wearing was making her sweat like a pig.
  4. Because of said clothes and armor she could barely move or breathe, too.
  5. The asshole from before, who she now knew was called Andrew, was currently beating the crap out of her with his little wooden sword.



“Oh, c’mon beggar, I know you can do better than that!” he taunted as Toni stumbled yet again, face almost crashing against the mud. She regained her balance at the last minute before turning to face him once more. The rest of the initiates crowded around them, screaming encouragements and sneers, “I bet those drunkards down at the port taught you a thing or two ‘bout how to move,” he twisted and thrust his hips suggestively and smiled, “in exchange for some golden pieces now, didn’t they?”

Toni charged.

She ran towards him at full speed and, instead of raising the ridiculous wooden sword, she dropped it and tackled him. Thankfully, the armor actually made Andrew heavier too so, with her momentum and his added weight, she managed to tumble him over. Once on the floor, she didn’t hesitate to straddle his chest, pinning his arms down, and punching him in the face. Repeatedly.

_You should just go back to whatever pit you crawled out from._

_Start with the little one, I think she’ll need a few_ special adjustments.

_Stop wasting our time._

_Kid._

_If you want to eat like an uneducated moron, that’s your loss._

_You’re clearly not cut out for knighthood._

_Do you prefer Badger? Like that emblem you stole?_

One morning. That was all it took for Toni to snap. To be honest, she was a little disappointed, she thought she’d do better. Maybe even a week. But alas.

Soon enough a thousand arms were pulling her up and away from Andrew, but she didn’t care. There was a smile on her face, and she felt a satisfied sort of pleasure bloom inside her chest as, for a moment, all the anger there dissipated. She knew it wouldn’t last long; it never did. But for that moment, as three other initiates dragged her away and Dyn Marius screamed in her face making her ears ring, she felt released.

//

The King paced around his office, a billion formal papers sprawled on top of his giant desk but forgotten as he walked, his hands tightly fisted behind his back, his eyes set on the rug underneath his feet, and his lips murmured fast in prayer.

“…and let the Gods witness my greatness and devotion, let them see into my soul, understand my motives, and guide them. Let me bear myself in their name, let them see me as I am in all my goodness and courage. And let me understand them and the mission they’ve given me as King of this land. Let me be docile to their intentions and brave enough to bring them to term.”

A knock on the door made him freeze and look up. He frowned, “Who is it, boy?”

The guard posted at his door turned immediately and opened, and the king smiled to himself in satisfaction at the startled look in the young man’s face as he answered his order. It was a new guard and David always took a small pleasure in roughing them up a little, if only to get them to adapt better to the tense environment of the palace.

“Princess Shelby. The King asked for my presence?”

His daughter’s voice reached his ears a moment later, “Let her in boy.” He ordered. The guard turned to him before nodding curtly and stepping aside.

Shelby came in looking as beautiful as ever, and he smiled, but then he noticed her eyes remained golden. David shuddered slightly. He couldn’t stand seeing them up so close. First his brother, now his daughter. Still, he forced the smile to stay in his lips as she approached him and kissed his cheek.

“Hello father, how is everything?”

“Good, Shelb, how are you? I heard you and Nathaniel already had your first meeting, how did it go?”

Shelby smiled, “Great, Daddy, he knows so much and he’s really excited about teaching me! He already gave me his diary and everything, and we’ve got our first class programmed for tomorrow morning.”

“Good, good.” David turned to a couple of armchairs to his left, “Come, Shelby, sit with me. There are a few things we have to talk about.”

Just like with the guard, David could feel his daughter behind him tense up a little as he settled into one of the armchairs. Shelby took the other one with a tight smile in her lips. He returned it before continuing, “Your ship will sail in ten days’ time. For the trip and your first year at the isle, as tradition dictates, two Lords or Ladies are required to keep you company.”

Shelby was about to speak, David could tell, so he continued, “I’ve already chosen the Ladies who will go. Lod Rilke and Lord Jadmani’s daughters.”

Shelby’s face fell as David saw a sheet of anger fall over her delicate features, replacing the polite smile. He tensed up, expecting his daughter’s outburst. But he raised a warning eyebrow at her and she seemed to catch the sentiment as she looked away, breathed in slowly, and turned back with a smile, “Daddy, I– I thought it was my choice to–”

“Shelby, I know and I’m sorry, I really am. But this was a choice much too important for me to allow _you_ to make it. You must understand. Those who follow the High Priestess are generally those who become the future King or Queen’s closest Lords and Ladies. It happened with your uncle and me. So, I made the right choice not for you or me, but for your brother. When he becomes King, he’ll need Lords and Ladies he can trust. These two Ladies belong to two of the strongest houses in the realm. If you strike a strong relationship with them, they’ll owe your brother the same loyalty. You understand?”

Shelby looked conflicted, like she wanted to argue. David felt irritation start to climb up his chest. He wasn’t in the mood for one of his daughter’s tantrums about choice and whatnot. He was King, she was Princess. She had to obey him the same way he’d done when his father was King and he was a Prince, and so on. It’s the way things were. And it was high time Shelby started learning that. His daughter’s little insurrections had become like a permanent toothache in David’s mouth. He didn’t have the patience to keep on dealing with her as if she were a child anymore. She was adult now, so he spoke to her as such,

“Shelby, I know it’s not what you expected. But you know the importance of loyalty, don’t you?” he gave her a pointed look and Shelby paled a little. Good, she still remembered, “And you know we must protect your brother’s future over everything, because his future is the Realm’s future. It is in our hands, our _duty_ , to ensure it’s a prosperous, successful one. Nothing is more important than that, right?”

//

The streets of the Capital were deserted, the warmth of the day still clinging to the stone walls and steps around Martha as the sun disappeared behind the horizon, but no one was around to enjoy it. Most were already inside their homes, preparing dinner or drinking the day away. Which is what Martha should have been doing, if she was being honest. Not the drinking part but the dinner part.

But thankfully, Shelby’d given her the evening off. She’d said that from now on life was going to get very busy so Martha should enjoy as much as she could and, since Shelby’d been called to her father’s chambers and then had dinner with him, Martha had a free evening.

Which she should have spent dining, relaxing, maybe even venturing a bath. But no.

Just like when they were kids, Martha was sacrificing her precious free time to go look for Toni.

But she couldn’t stay mad at Toni, not really. She loved her too much which was both a blessing and curse.

She remembered how Toni’d saved her from those kids who threw stones at her on the outside of their village when they were six, and how her and Toni learned to swim on the lake by her family’s farmhouse when they were ten. She had always been there for Martha, no matter what. A constant, if a little explosive, rock to hang onto. But she also remembered all the fights Toni used to get into, and all the consequences. That was one of the reasons Martha had taken the job when the King’s men appeared at the village looking for clean young women to attend the palace. She’d urged Toni to apply, too, but she’d been too proud. Of course, Toni wouldn’t have dared serve the same people who took her mother, called her a witch, and locked her up.

Which was also one of the reasons Martha was currently crossing street after street, heading for the Insulam’s Temple. The Toni she knew wouldn’t have dared becoming a Wild Knight, so maybe Toni’d finally grown up a little. This gave her hope.

But when she reached the monumental building with its closed oak gates, the guard posted there refused to let her in.

“The temple’s closed until the Passage ceremony, I’m sorry.” He would repeat every time Martha tried to get him to let her in, “No one goes in or out.”

“I know that! You already said it, I don’t want to go _in_ , I just want to talk to one of the initiates. Toni Shalifoe, if you could just go–”

“Initiates can’t have contact with anyone outside of the Temple while they train.”

Martha sighed, frustrated, and turned around. This was going to be impossible. She considered returning to the palace. Maybe the cook would be willing to prepare her a late dinner before getting off duty. But then the sound of the gates opening behind her had Martha spinning back around.

The guard – _that asshat_ – was nodding at another Knight that was leaving. He had his cloak’s hood up and Martha couldn’t see his face but then he turned to her and their eyes crossed. He had a scar up his left cheek and bright brown eyes with sharp features.

Martha tried to speak, but the knight turned away and hurried past her.

“Hey!” she turned to the guard who was already closing the wooden gates again, “Hey! He left! You lied to me!”

The guard looked at her tiredly before sighing, “Aright, who did you wanna see?”

Martha beamed, stepping closer, “Toni Shalifoe.”

The guard seemed to recognize the name, “Oh, shit, nah. Sorry. Your friend got in trouble. She’s serving time in the dungeons,” he chuckled, “come back tomorrow, maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright alright, I know there aren't many interactions among the main characters yet, but they're coming, don't worry. I just need to settle them in their parts before they can meet.  
>   
> Also, I think this may be of need here:  
> There are king’s knights and there are wild knights, or knights of the order of the Insulam, or just Insulam knights. The first ones are the traditional knights one might think of in our world and are addressed as Sir or Dame (‘cause of course there are women too, we’re not sexist in this type of fantasy) while the wild knights have the gender-neutral title of Dyn and are the green-cloaked guys that serve the order in a pseudo religious way. They protect the temples and priests and priestesses and stuff and are led by the High Priest or High Priestess.  
>   
> Anyways, you can always find me at yourstrullyme on Tumblr if you wanna talk about this awsome show or the AU! Hope you enjoyed it, next Chapter coming soon, hopefully (thanks for waiting) <3


	3. The Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Am SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG it's just that life has been sosososo hectic and i really wanted to give this fic the time it needs so it ended up being a very long wait. I'm hoping I can start updating more frequently, but sadly I cannot make such promises since school's starting up again and it's a lot, too. But I will try because this fic gives me so much life!! It's so fun to write and God I want to get to the good parts already!! So yeah, I apologize.
> 
> Anyways, I made a little change to last chapter (Chapter 2). Instead of Thom giving Nora a potion to sleep Leah, he gives her a poison. Aside from that, enjoy!

Dot had brought with her exactly ten gold pieces from home. She didn’t care to bring much more since once she joined the order everything she would ever need would be cared for by them. But now, as she stood under the cover of a moonless night, her cloak draped closely over her face, she wished she’d brought maybe a little more.

“Fifteen pieces.” The guard said. Dot rolled her eyes internally. Of course, the guard had to be greedy. She gritted her teeth, thinking over the offer she was about to give.

“Eight.”

“Twelve.”

“C’mon man, I don’t _have_ that much.”

The guard smirked, “Oh please, I recognize a highborn when I see one. Pay up, my Lady.”

“Nine.”

The guard mulled over her offer then, “Alright, nine. But you owe me a favor, too.”

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. Then, “Deal. Just let me out.”

“Enjoy your ‘walk’, Initiate.” The guard smirked again before cracking the gate open only a few inches so that Dot could sneak out.

Sneaking into the palace was much easier. Mainly, because the green cloak that now covered her shoulders allowed her to roam freely, even if she still wasn’t _technically_ one of the Order’s Knights.

And so, with ease, Dot reached the Lady’s room in a few minutes’ time. She straightened herself slightly, rolled her shoulders back and sighed, and then knocked.

“Come in.” her voice sing-sung from the other side, surprisingly loud and steady. It looked like the Lady was quite the night owl.

Dot pushed open the door and closed it silently behind her. Her eyes swept the room in a second. It was a standard royal suite: lots of paintings on the walls, high ceilings, ostentatious curtains, flower arrangements and rugs, along with puffy couches, armchairs and a fireplace. To her left a small threshold led away to the private chambers from where the voice had called and called again, “In here.”

Dot cleared her throat, straightened her back, and went over what she was going to say to the Lady in her head. Then, she walked through.

What she found inside wasn’t exactly what she expected.

There was the canopy bed, with its large bedposts and flowing curtains, and the bedside tables, and the windows, open wide into a very dark, covered sky. And on the bed, she found the Lady, yes, but Dot found her very much _naked_. Head to toe on her birthday suit, looking as casual as she did back at the feast with that smug smile and the hooded eyes. She was laying on her belly, riffling through a book, her chin resting on her knuckles and her feet up in the air, and not a single sheet covering her silky dark skin. Dot felt the heat on her face in a second as she turned around clumsily, closing her eyes for good measure.

“I– I’m so sorry– I– I apo– I apologize, m– my Lady I didn’t realize–” she stuttered, her heart racing, but the Lady interrupted her with her laughter, and Dot’s heart did a flip on her chest when she heard it, “Oh please, dear Dyn, don’t be so _coy_. It’s alright. I’m not in the business of being _modest_ anyways. Actually, I was waiting for you, wondering when you’d finally make an appearance.”

“You were?” Dot asked dumbly, her mind still stuck on a very inappropriate remembrance of the Lady’s slim figure on top of the bed.

There was a ruffling sound behind her before the Lady spoke again, “There, now you can turn around, I’m _decent_ now _._ ”

Dot rolled her eyes at the jab before steeling herself again and turning around. She found her still on the bed, but now she sat cross-legged with a sheet of white silk draped over her, almost like a dress of ancient times.

“Like it?” she smiled cheekily, wiggling her eyebrows at Dot, but the initiate ignored her with a huff before approaching, “My Lady, I apologize for my disrespect just now, but I’ve come to speak to you because I think you may have gotten the wrong impression about me.”

Lady Fatin raised an eyebrow, her smile still in place, “Oh, no need to apologize. Although I’m quite curious, what impression is that, exactly?”

Dot swallowed thickly. Even covered in her sheets, Lady Fatin was incredibly beautiful, and it was incredibly distracting for her. Even more than Dot remembered from their childhood, certainly. Her eyes were just as playful, if not more, and her features just as sharp. But she was a woman now, with long curves and silky hair, and an attitude that all on itself would have drawn Dot in, were the circumstances any different. Only her smile seemed changed, but Dot couldn’t exactly pinpoint why in that moment.

“Uhm,” Dot started, “you looked like– I mean, you said you hoped to see me around? And well, I’m will soon join the Insulam Order for good so I don’t think that…”

Since the first word, Dot knew she was digging herself deeper and deeper into a big hole as she spoke. But for some reason, the words she’d prepared before were lost somewhere in the void and now she looked like a flustered little teen, babbling nonsense as the Lady’s smile grew larger and larger until she broke out in raucous laughter.

“Please stop, dear Dorothy,” she called, and Dot’s heart dropped to her feet. So, she was correct, Fatin _had_ recognized her, “both you and I know that it’s all bullshit. You want me to keep your secret, is that it?”

Dot hung her head as she sighed, “So you recognized me, huh?”

“Of course, I recognized you, dear. How could I forget one of my closest friends?”

Again, Dot’s heart did that little jump-dance thing as her face grew warm and the words _closest friend_ tumbled around her brain.

“So, are you going to tell anyone?”

She rolled her eyes at Dot, “Of course not. And, by the way, congrats on fulfilling your lifelong dream, huh? Although I really don’t get why you don’t just come out and use your real name and title. You’re already _in_ the Order so it’s not like you’ve got something to lose.”

Dot sighed, unsure whether to trust Fatin with even more information on her. But then she thought about how long it’d been since the feast. Almost two days. Fatin had had two days to tell someone, and she hadn’t. And then she remembered how they would talk when they were little girls, hiding under tables and dreaming of a future together, how she’d told Fatin all about the Order, how Fatin’d told her about her great escape.

“My father’s in debt with the King.” She started. Fatin’s eyebrows scrunched as she leaned back on the bed and patted down the mattress in front of her, “Come sit, and tell me about it, Dorothy.”

Dot did as she was told, “My father got sick, after the war. It wasn’t too bad at first but after I was born, well, he got worse. There wasn’t much to be done by traditional medicine standards, but my mother was desperate, so she pleaded to the King to tell his brother to pray to the Gods for my father’s recovery. The King agreed but the price was high. My mother still accepted. That was a year before she died.” Dot paused for a moment as a million memories of her mother flashed through her mind’s eyes.

“But anyways,” she shook her head, trying to move on before her eyes got misty, “we managed to work through the debt fine for the next few years until, two years ago, my father wasn’t able to pay because of a storm that sunk most of the fishing boats in our fief. There was no money to fix them because of the constant debt that had sucked out all our savings, so that season there were no fish. With no fish to sell, the region was impoverished. They couldn’t pay their taxes so we couldn’t continue paying the debt.” She sighed, eyes fixed on her own hands as they twisted into themselves on her lap, “Now, dad’s sick again – I’m guessing with no payment the King’s brother told the Gods to stop protecting him or something – so he feared if I used my true name, once he died the debt would follow me.”

“Damn,” Fatin breathed out a second later. Dot looked up. The lady was watching her with concern in her eyes, her hand on the mattress between them almost as if she’d tried to reach out but hesitated at the last moment, “I don’t think that’s right, though.”

“What?”

“The Gods, they wouldn’t just stop caring for not paying,” Fatin rolled her eyes at Dot, “That’s dumb. It was probably just a coincidence.”

“Yeah well, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” a sudden flare of anger coursed through Dot’s veins as her voice rose and she turned away, “I’m off living my dream of becoming a knight, but for what? Fuck, what a dream, huh? My father’s sick and in debt so he’ll probably die soon, and as his last wish he sent me to join the Order. Now the fief will be defenseless, some random idiot will be put in charge or worse, we’ll be invaded by some other power-hungry Lord and the people will suffer. But I’m happy, right?”

“Well, you don’t really look happy, Dorothy.”

Dot looked up and Fatin’s eyes softened. She reached forward then, placing a hand to her jaw and with the pad of her thumb wiping a tear from Dot’s cheek. Dot closed her eyes, reveling for a moment in the feel of her soft, warm skin against hers, all thoughts of her father and her fief behind her, if only for a moment.

Then, Fatin did something that caught Dot so off guard that she didn’t react at first. She pulled at Dot’s jaw, forcing her to meet her eyes and, with a soft, teasing smile, she said, “Maybe I can help you with that? Just for tonight.”

The kiss was soft and brief, but it left a tingling sensation all over Dot’s body as she opened her eyes in surprise to find Fatin’s mischievous expression as she winked at her. And just like that, Dot couldn’t think of anything else but Fatin’s lips on her own, her face inches away, her breath as it warmed her skin, tainted with the smell of wine and the taste of honey, her fingers with the softness of a hundred silky robes and the warmth of a day out in the northern, summer sun. Dot surged forward to kiss her back, this time long and hard and hungry.

 _Just for tonight_ , she thought.

//

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Toni huffed and then groaned as pain flared on her side where Andrew’d kicked her during one of their various sparring matches. But she didn’t look up from the spot on the dirt she’d fixed her eyes on ever since they put her up there.

It was well past midnight by now, the sky was covered in clouds, but a few torches still burned around, and Toni was supposed to be alone in the courtyard. That was her punishment. Alone, all night, standing there, stretched out, hands tied over her head onto an almost ten feet tall wooden pole they’d brought in just for her, her feet barely touching the ground. Lucky Toni.

But she wasn’t alone. Rachel had apparently chosen this moment exactly to come and rub it all in. Lucky, lucky Toni.

Because it wasn’t enough that she’d blown the one thing that was currently good in her life, the opportunity at a warm bed and food, at _friends,_ or at least comrades; that she was going to probably get expelled after the punishment was over; that she was going to go back to living on the streets except this time it’d be worse, so much worse, because this time she’d be a disgraced knight, an embarrassment, a fucking outcast. Kids would play at throwing her rocks, they’d kick her out of buildings and cities, beat her up, laugh at her.

No, of course it wasn’t enough because, on top of all that, Rachel had to come and add insult to injury.

“Rachel, I really am _not_ in the mood for your snotty little comments so if you’d kindly _fuck off and die,_ that’d be awesome.”

Rachel had the audacity to laugh lightly. Toni groaned and struggled, but of course, it wasn’t like she could do anything about it, being tied up to the pole, but still. She grunted. Rude.

“You’re a natural, Shalifoe.” Rachel spoke but her voice was suddenly cutting, nothing like her laughter from moments ago. She sounded bitter and…jealous? “Do you have any idea of how long I trained just to _be_ here? how hard it was for me to be this good? What I would give to be as _gifted_ as you are?”

Toni spared her a look for the first time since she heard her approach. Rachel looked tired, with a frown set on her brow, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pursed, eyes bearing daggers at Toni. The fire of the torch closest to her danced across her skin and her honey-colored irises, setting it all dangerously alive.

“Sure, _gifted,_ a natural. ‘Cause it isn’t like I was getting my ass handed to me during that sparring session, right? It’s not like I was raised on the streets? Can barely _hold a fork,_ right?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. She looked equal parts like she wanted to turn around and leave, and like she wanted to punch the life out of Toni.

A part of Toni wanted her to go, too, or to punch her; wanted her to leave Toni alone lo wallow in her misery or to inflict a pain that could match the one inside of her. But another part was begging Rachel to stay and talk, and with her presence quieten the desperation inside. Quieten the thinking and loathing and dread.

“You killed a _jackalope_ , Toni, all on your own.” She looked pointedly at Toni who simply stared back blankly, “Out of all the initiates, how many do you think had absolutely no formal training, like you?”

Toni hadn’t thought about it, but she guessed at least a few, right?

Seeing as Toni wasn’t answering Rachel huffed, exasperated, and stepped closer to speak, “None. The closest there was is Bjorn, but he’s the son of a smith so he, at least, knew his way around swords and such beforehand. And he had help, all the while you killed that beast _all on your own._ ”

Toni blinked and looked away, feeling ashamed. Rachel was scolding her, and it really hurt, but she didn’t know why. She barely knew Rachel, why was it affecting her so much? She was just a stuck-up, King-loving, Gods-praising, simpleton… right?

“But you–” she continued, sighing, “You’ve got all this raw talent and you _waste it?_ Fucking fighting an idiot like Andrew? And for what, exactly?”

“Fuck off,” Toni’s voice was weak, and she refused to turn back to look Rachel in the eyes.

“ _Gods,_ you’re an idiot. And a disgrace. And a _waste_.”

After a few eternal heartbeats, she heard the sound of Rachel’s boots on the ground. Toni waited a few more seconds before turning to find the courtyard empty again. She sighed, hanging her head and returning her eyes to the dirt.

//

It all started because Martha heard a noise.

It wasn’t even a loud noise, but it was constant, like an insect’s buzz, and it got in the way of her late-night embroidery, so she huffed, got up, and walked over. Unfortunately, she’d been sewing on the service lounge by the sleeping quarters in the palace’s service wing, where all the hallways were currently empty, and so the sound carried a long way to her ears. Because of this she had to walk all the way to the end of the wing before she heard the voices more clearly. She was turning a corner right before the kitchens, her mouth already open to ask the people talking there to get a room or something, when the voices rose, and she froze.

“–I don’t care, I’m an Insulam Knight, I have been tasked with taking care of the princess’ life, and I am ordering you to allow me inside!”

Martha’s mouth dried. She pressed herself to one of the hallway’s cold walls and held in her breath, waiting for the response.

“I am sorry but Wild Knights have no authority–”

“You dare question my _authority_?! Would you like to go talk to the High Priest about it? Or should we go directly to the King? Is that who you answer to? Because I do not care for the King, I answer to the Gods themselves, now will you question the Gods, too?”

Martha squeaked, feeling her knees tremble, but she swallowed her unease and steeled herself before creeping her way towards the edge of the wall. The second voice mumbled something urgently, excusing himself for sure, but Martha wasn’t able to make it out before there was a dry thud that silenced him. Martha surged forward.

As soon as her eyes adjusted to the hallway’s dim lighting, she caught sight of the Knight, his hands pulling at the Servant’s robes as he held him a few inches above the floor, back flush against the rocky walls.

“What’s happening?” she demanded, frowning.

They both turned to her and the Knight dropped the Servant. That’s when Martha recognized him. Sharp features and a small scar over his cheek.

“Nothing of your concern, child.” The Knight bit at her before turning back to the Servant, his eyes vicious, “I’ll be back and _then_ , you’ll regret it.”

The Servant didn’t dare answer before the Knight had turned and left.

//

Toni’s feet and hands had gone numb about two hours ago. Her legs and arms ached worse than they had in her whole life and her head pounded from the lack of sleep. Not to mention her whole body was frozen due to the cold night air; her throat was scratchy, and her nose was clogged. She didn’t understand why they didn’t just kick her out already. Going back to her old life was punishment enough and everyone knew it. No need for all of _this_. It was simple, just leave her alone again.

But as the sun rose and tainted the sky grey, and the temple rose with it, Toni realized something.

Nothing was ever so simple.

Because as soon as the bells tolled a group assembled around her. She caught sight of the other initiates there, Rachel amongst them looking unimpressed as always, and Andrew, snickering with a couple of others. There were the knights from the armory, too, the burly man and the woman that had called her a squid. And Dyn Marius, too, looking annoyed. They all crowded around her, and Toni’s stomach dropped low as she anticipated what was to come. Even _more_ humiliation.

As the crowd settled, the woman, surprisingly, spoke up, “Fighting a fellow Knight.” She started, turning to address the crowd as she walked towards Toni, “Toni Shalifoe, you are willing to hurt your brother in arms,” then, she turned to her, “for what?”

Toni’s shame burned bright on her cheeks as they all stared at her, but she swallowed it all in one big breath and, in spite of the pain in her body, she puffed out her chest, using her anger as fuel, “That dick of a person, Andrew, insulted me! I tried to be the bigger person, but he didn’t stop. So, I punched him.”

There were a few murmurs from the crowd, but nobody spoke up. Andrew had sobered up, seeing as his name had been called and nobody had come out to defend him. Beside Toni, the woman from the armory, Dyn Jamie, was fighting a smile as she turned towards the crowd again.

“So, you were merely defending your honor?”

“Yes.”

“Initiate Andrew, step up please.”

For a moment Andrew looked stunned, but he frowned then and stepped away from the crowd, towards Jamie, “I did no such thing, Dyn. She’s lying, she’s a liar. You can see it in her eyes. She’s a beggar, that’s all beggars know to do.”

Toni struggled against her restrains for a moment, her eyes burning holes into Andrew’s face. The boy, hearing her try to break away, turned to her in surprise and stepped away.

“See?” he demanded, out of breath, “She’s a savage.”

Jamie looked at him hard for a moment before nodding lightly. Toni’s heart fell. Her only chance, and she’d blown it because, as always, the good little Lord was the one who was believed and not her.

“That’s not true!” she screamed before she could stop herself, “It’s not fucking true! I didn’t lie, I never lie!”

Jamie looked at her disapprovingly for a moment before she cleared her throat.

“Toni has served her time for the injuries she caused her fellow Initiate. For this, she is now pardoned. Does anybody disagree?”

The crowd remained silent. Toni was stunned. Pardoned? Andrew looked like he wanted to argue, but Jamie glared at him before he could open his mouth.

“Good.” She stepped towards Toni and silently took off the restrains from her wrists. Toni almost fell forward but caught herself at the last minute. Her wrists where raw and aching and her balance was screwed a little, her muscles taunt and frozen with the strain and the cold, but she felt a sigh of relief escape her chest as she was able to bend her knees and arms, and her shoulders relaxed.

“I know the punishment was hard, but out there, things _will_ be harder.” Jamie spoke in a hushed voice before pulling back and addressing the crowd again,

“Now, I am afraid because of the disparity in testimonies, I cannot judge precisely on the charged brought up by Toni against Andrew, so I must step down. Who here believes themselves to be objective judges to this situation?”

The crowd was silent again until someone spoke up. It was the boy from their team, the blonde with the clammy skin that had gone with Toni, Rachel and Dot into the armory.

“Me! I’m–, uhm, I’m sorry, I can. My name is Quinn and I think I can help you, Dyn, in your judgement.”

“Speak, Initiate.”

“I saw what happened.” He didn’t look up at the Dyn, but instead addressed the dirt in front of his feet while he clung at his cloak with fidgety fingers, “Andrew waited for Toni outside the bathroom and then teased her when she came out. She didn’t act then, but afterwards, during the exercises, Andrew teased her again as he did now, calling her a beggar, a street rat, and such. He continuously insulted her honor, Dyn, seeing her not as his sister but as someone inferior, until she got fed up. Personally, I was happy seeing Toni hit him, he had it coming.”

The boy snickered at that last comment before looking up at Jamie’s unamused stare and straightening himself up.

“Is this true, Initiate?”

He nodded vigorously, “Yes, I was on my way to the bathrooms myself when I saw them the first time. And then during the exercises we all saw.”

Behind him, a few initiates nodded, Rachel amongst them.

“Does the Order believe his testimony?”

The crowd murmured approvingly until Dyn Marius himself spoke, “Yes, Dyn Jamie. We believe him.”

“Good then,” Jamie turned to Andrew, “Andrew, for what you did, provoking your fellow Initiate, belittling her and insulting her honor, you shall share her same punishment.”

“What?! But it was just a few words! She broke my nose!”

“How are your wrists?”

Toni scowled. For as fun as it had been seeing Andrew being stripped of his cloak and, dressed only in his undershirt and pants, being tied up to the pole she’d been stuck under for the past night, her whole body ached, her ego was still quite bruised, and she was still in a very sour mood, so hearing Rachel’s voice – more so after their little talk the night before – wasn’t exactly a welcomed sound.

“Fuck off, Rachel.”

“C’mon Shalifoe, don’t be an ass about it, I’m trying to make peace here.”

“Yeah well, I’m not apologizing, and I won’t accept yours, so leave me alone.”

“I and neither offering nor demanding one. I don’t need an apology; apologies serve for nothing. Just a change in behavior. But I’m sure that night at the pole helped you out with that, didn’t it?”

Toni rolled her eyes, but she did turn around to face her. Rachel was smiling teasingly at her, actually smiling, and Toni’s irritation levels soared, “Oh, fuck off. If you want to laugh go laugh at Andrew. I’m not here for your amusement. I did what I had to do.”

“Well, I stand by my statement then, you’re still an idiot. You’re lucky Quinn stepped up to save you. You should thank him.”

“He’s weird.”

“I know,” Rachel pulled a face, “but he’s still the only one who vouched for you.”

Toni hung her head. This was such a mess. But still, she stood from her bed and walked towards her bedroom’s threshold where Rachel stood, “Okay, I’ll thank him later. What else do you want me to do, oh mother dear?”

Rachel rolled her eyes and then glared, “Dyn Marius gave us the morning and said you should visit the baths. Meanwhile, I’ll go look for Dot.”

“Why? Is she missing?”

Rachel nodded curtly, “She wasn’t in her room when the bells tolled. Must’ve sneaked out during the night. I managed to cover for her, thanks to your trial, but I don’t think her absence at lunchtime will be overlooked.”

“Why are you doing all of this? Caring for us?”

Rachel looked uncomfortable for a moment.

“Last night you called me a _waste_.” Toni’s voice almost caught in the word _waste_ as her emotions swirled around her chest, pushing up against the roof of her mouth, her exhaustion and aching bones making it really hard not to crack at the memory.

“Yeah well,” Rachel looked away and stepped back, suddenly looking cornered and twitchy, “We’re a team. You, me, Dot and Quinn. We’re all we have. Our old lives are gone. This is it. I realize now I was– I was unfair to you. Last night and at the feast.”

Toni’s eyes hardened as she tried to figure out if Rachel was telling the truth. It sure looked like it, but Toni’d heard enough such speeches to know even a fox can dress itself as a convincing sheep for the right incentive. She just couldn’t figure out what Rachel’s incentive was.

“Okay, well, thanks.”

//

“Lady Fatin.”

“Lady Leah.”

“Long time no see.”

“Not long enough, clearly.”

Fatin rolled her eyes. So, Leah was still the stuck-up, frigid bitch she’d always been. What’s new?

“It seems as if we’re stuck together though, doesn’t it?” Fatin said as she turned to look at her old ‘friend’ for the first time since she’d walked onto the balcony they currently stood on. She only caught Leah’s profile, though, since the other girl refused to stray her eyes from the city below them, her hands firm on the railing, her back straight, her bright blue eyes darkened by the pull of her brow and her dark hair billowing around her, pulled every which way by the light breeze. She was biting her lower lip lightly, almost as if she was nervous.

“What do you mean?” Finally, Leah’s eyes landed on Fatin’s and the shorter girl’s throat closed up a little under their intensity. She’d forgotten for a moment what it felt like to sit under such scrutiny and strength.

“Well, we’ve been called to be our Princess’ little companions now, haven’t we? So, the three of us will be spending the next year, _at least_ , all together. Isn’t that fantastic?”

Leah bit down on her lip again and for a moment, Fatin was distracted by the motion, her eyes catching it before Leah turned back to the railing and the city below.

“I guess so.”

//

“I don’t think I’m doing it right, Uncle.”

Nathaniel sighed, his shoulders sagging. He opened his eyes to find his niece with one eye cracked open, observing him with an unsure look on her face.

“Shelby, like I said, there is no right way of doing it. Just relax, put your mind at ease, let go of your thoughts as they come and instead concentrate on your surroundings, on the sounds, the vibrations, the feelings. There’s energy all around us, my child, and you and I, more than anyone, are capable of both feeling and bending it to our own will. You just need to let go and relax.”

 _Easy for him to say_ , Shelby thought, frustrated. The one thing she was supposed to be good at, the one thing the whole kingdom was counting on her being good at, and she couldn’t, for the life of her, do it. Because of course it had to be the one thing she was bad at. Because of course she couldn’t stop thinking about how her back had to sit straight but her muscles were starting to strain, and her mind should be blank, but it _wasn’t,_ and her hair was falling out of place, tickling her cheek, and she could feel Lady Fatin and Lady Leah’s eyes on her back as they sat at the edge of the balcony, sipping tea. And it was all too much for her to _just relax._

“I just don’t understand how I’m supposed to do it.” she opened her eyes again and she caught sight of her Uncle’s exasperated sigh before he opened his eyes and dropped his hands from his knees to the ground.

“Shelby, there isn’t anything to understand here.”

“Yes, I know that. It’s just that, I don’t get how we can just clear our minds of everything and still remain aware of what’s around us. It’s just hard.”

His eyes softened a little and Shelby bit her lip.

“I know it’s hard, my child. But it will get easier.” He looked up at the sky then, clear and bright blue with the sun coursing through, almost past midday, “That’s enough for today. We’ll start up back where we left tomorrow morning. I need to speak to your companions now, so you go with my acolytes and they’ll walk you through a few rituals and technicalities, alright?”

Shelby nodded, trying not to let the feeling of disappointment and shame show in her face as she stretched out her legs and stood from the floor, but her face burned a little, nonetheless. Her Uncle paid no mind, though, as he bid her farewell and walked over to the two ladies enjoying their tea, leaving Shelby standing in the middle of the balcony.

Shelby sighed and turned her eyes up to the sky. She thought of her vision again, as she’d done ever since Martha’d woken her up all those nights ago. Were they watching her, right now? Where they proud of her? Or did they think she was a failure, as she was sure her Uncle, her Father, and many more thought?

She sighed, gripping the thin fabric of her dress before steeling herself once more and opening her eyes. she turned to the glass doors that led into the palace’s drawing room and found Nathaniel’s acolytes waiting for her; two women with slanted eyes, one with dark, straight hair and the other, shorter, with curls down to her hips. Shelby approached them and they bowed before her. They wore the standard priestess gowns which consisted of a couple of green and khaki layers held together by a leather cord round the waist, sandals on their feet, and their arms bare.

Shelby’s outfit wasn’t that different, except she wore a couple of golden armbands round her biceps and a small figure of a lion’s head made of wood tied to a simple leather cord round her neck. Nathaniel had said the lion was to be her guide, whatever that meant.

“Hello, your majesty,” one of the acolytes, the one with the long, straight hair, greeted, “My name is Jeanette, and this is Flora,” the other acolyte bowed again, “if you’ll follow us, we’ve been tasked by High Priest Nathaniel to show you the steps of the most basic rituals, those you shall have to complete upon your arrival at the isle.”

Shelby offered them a smile in spite of her frustration, before following them inside.

//

Dot ran as fast as she could but still, she knew she’d be caught.

The sun had been up for at least a couple of hours which meant she was late for at least a couple of hours. She’d surely missed the morning training. She was _so_ going to pay for this. Maybe they’d put her up on a pole like they did with Toni the night before. Although sleeping with a Lady was probably a worse felony. She wondered what her punishment could be if they found out. It surely wasn’t going to be a good one. Which meant she needed an alibi, but what?

She reached end of the street closest to the Temple’s doors in a heap of anxiety and distress. Her pants were on backwards and her cloak was still clutched on one hand. She hoped the guard from last night would be there to let her back in, but the guy at the front of the gates looked older and definitely more serious.

Dot cursed under her breath as she stepped forward. _Just get over with it_ , she thought, _better now than later._

She was about to call out to the guard, who had been talking to a woman with a huge basket on her hands and hadn’t yet noticed her approaching, when someone grabbed her arm and called her name, “Dot!”

Dot turned around in surprise.

“What the–” But Rachel tightened her grip on Dot’s arm and gave her a pointed look that clearly read ‘ _shut up!’_ before pulling her away from the guard. She wasn’t wearing her cloak, Dot noticed.

“What the hell, man.” Dot called, but Rachel wasn’t looking at her as she led Dot down a back street that led to one of the Temple’s tall, granite walls.

“Where are we going? Why aren’t you wearing your cloak?”

“So, no one recognizes us, duh.”

_Okay, smart._

“Where are we going?”

“Just shut up and follow me, alright? I’m so done with saving all your asses today.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re here.”

They reached a part of the wall where a big observation tower rose. Against it there were piled a few old carts and wagons and crates, all broken and rotting away. Rachel let go of Dot’s bicep and stepped towards the rubbles.

“What’s in there?” Dot asked.

Rachel didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled one of the carts back to reveal a small door on the wall’s side.

“Oh, shit.”

“Shut up and get inside, Grinnell.”

The inside of the tower was dark, but a small window let in enough light for Dot to make out another figure inside, crouching under it, sneaking little glances outside.

“Who’s there?” she asked. The figure moved away from the window and straightened themselves.

“Hi! It’s me, Quinn. Rachel said you’d need help getting back inside.”

“Oh, cool. Thanks.”

“You’re an idiot. Where were you?”

Dot didn’t realize Rachel had come in behind her and shut the secret door.

“I was, I–” Dot stumbled through her words as she realized what she had almost said. _I was with Lady Fatin, on her bed, all night long…_ she swallowed thickly before averting her eyes to the floor to try and get her embarrassment under control and think of something to say, “I was, I was attending to a few unresolved matters, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry my ass. You’re on our team now, so no sneaking away anymore, is that clear?”

Dot glared at Rachel. She didn’t exactly have a problem with authority, but she wasn’t one to be bossed around like that. She internally rolled her eyes.

“Alright, Rachel. I’ll try. But this is not _your_ team. You know that, right?”

Rachel rolled her eyes but didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to Quinn, “How’s it looking outside?”

“Pretty busy. I don’t think they’ll notice us.”

That evening they had an armory session followed by a sword sparring one, which meant they’d get to fight with their full armor this time, as heavy as that was. Dot wasn’t really worried; she’d worn armor before. But she could tell Toni was.

They’d met up during lunchtime and even if the shorter girl had looked exactly as angry and dangerous as ever, her eyes looked tired and her hands shook a little as she held her spoon and fork. Last night’s punishment had shaken her up, that was for sure. Dot just hoped a trip to the armory wouldn’t worsen the situation.

Thankfully, that female Dyn from the day before was there again, and as she greeted the team with a smile, Dot caught from the corner of her eye Toni’s shoulders relaxing a little.

“Welcome, troupe.” She said, looking them up and down individually, “yesterday we got your measurements for your armors and, meanwhile, you got to practice holding the weight of an armor by carrying old ones, while the smiths worked on yours. Now, you’ll get to wear your own. You only get one, and it is not a toy, you get that? It will be your responsibility to clean and maintain it. Whatever happens to it, it’s your fault. You must fix it. And I hope I don’t need to remind you that this armor is also the difference between a bruise and a knife to the heart, am I right? So, you _must_ fix it.”

“Yes, Dyn!” the four of them responded in almost unison.

“Alright then, come along.”

They followed Dyn Jamie further into the armory until they reached a table that had been cleared of any junk and, instead, held enough polished steel pieces to arm the four of them.

“I will teach you how to put it on the first time but, after that, it’s on you. So, pay attention.”

“Yes Dyn!”

“Especially you, Squid, did you hear me?”

Toni looked irritated, but she sighed before answering, “Yes Dyn!”

Dot smiled before slightly bumping her elbow against Toni’s shoulder. The shorter girl turned to her with a scowl, but Dot continued smiling anyways, “Squid.”

Toni rolled her eyes before stepping away towards the table. Dot followed; her spirits lifted a little.

Maybe it wouldn’t be a disaster again.

//

The day ended the same way it begun, except now Shelby had her hands covered in moss and dirt and honey. Learning rituals was as natural to her as her meditation session that morning, meaning not at all.

She’d mixed up the spices, and then burned the sage a little too early, or dropped the honey into the clay bowl instead of ‘gently rubbing it along the edges’, or whatever. It was useless. At least Jeanette was kind enough, and every time Shelby made a mistake she’d just giggle and rush to assure Shelby her mistake was very much common and not at all terrible, and that she’d get it the next time. She didn’t though, she actually managed to mess up every single try she did. But Jeanette’s optimism served to counter Shelby’s ever-growing pessimism and make the day little more bearable.

Once night-time came, though, it was a different story.

She had her first dinner with the Ladies.

The King’s words echoed around Shelby’s mind as she entered the room and found the two women standing by the long table. They bowed before her, as customs said, and then they were all seated. And the silence was deafening.

Shelby could almost see the tension between Leah and Fatin. She wondered what it was all about, but of course she didn’t ask. She also wondered what it was that Leah was so eager to tell her, according to her message during the feast which Shelby hadn’t been able to address due to her constant training with Uncle Nathaniel, but she didn’t ask about that either. She also knew they were both eager to ask about her training, or maybe tease her about it, but they didn’t ask either.

No, Shelby didn’t discuss anything of substance with her companions. Because the walls had ears and the doors had eyes. She’d learned that the hard way a few years ago. She knew when to speak up and when to behave. She had it all down to a science.

And so, she remained polite and talked, and the Ladies did the same, and they just as well might have remained silent because by the end of supper, not a single bit of information from the conversation had lodged itself into either’s memory.

//

Toni was done.

Sure, getting a new and shiny armor was cool, and getting to see Andrew hanging off the pole was definitely satisfying, but she was tired off her mind, and it felt like every single person in the Temple had their eyes on her. It started during lunchtime. She sat with her troupe as you were supposed to, but Dot and Rachel wouldn’t keep their eyes off of Toni. They tried to hide it, of course, and it made Toni even angrier.

After that, during the armory fitting session, Dyn Jamie stayed by her side the whole time, calling her Squid and helping her out as if she was a child.

Then, during sword practice, it was the worst. The whole quad was watching her. Everywhere she looked she found her fellow initiates or some Dyn working out nearby with their heads turned to her. And like Dot and Rachel, they always turned away as soon as she caught them. But she still caught them.

And she knew what they were thinking, of course.

They were waiting for Toni’s next outburst. They were waiting for the moment she’d explode again, lose control and punch someone. They were waiting to see if she’d break, to see if she’d make it until ceremony day or if she’d be violent enough to be kicked out before.

Well, Toni wouldn’t give them that satisfaction.

//

Martha said goodnight to Shelby and stepped out of the Princess’ quarters with a tired sigh. It was well past sundown, and yet she was still covered in soap and water from helping Shelby take her bath, so instead of heading straight to bed, as she would’ve loved to do, she turned to her right and started the long trek from there to the service wing where the bathrooms for the service were. In fact, she was lucky enough Shelby had demanded her father to allow for Martha to sleep on the Princess’ adjoined room or else she would’ve had to make this same trek every single night and every single morning. Thankfully, Shelby had horrible night terrors from time to time, so Martha’s watchful eye was useful enough to allow her to have a room up in the royal family’s wing.

But, even in her tired state, Martha didn’t make it far.

“Excuse me,” loud, fast footsteps were followed by a striking voice who called just as Martha looked up and immediately straightened herself as she realized Lady Leah was standing there in front of her.

“Uh, yes, good night my lady. How can I help you?”

“You’re Shelby’s handmaiden, right?” the Lady’s eyes were angry, piercing like daggers fixed on Martha who, uneasily, tried to offer her a smile.

“Yes, I am Her Highness’ handmaiden. If you wish to speak to her, I’ll be sure to tell her tomorrow morning, and she’ll call for you as soon as she can.”

Lady Leah rolled her eyes and huffed, frustrated. At her sides, Martha noticed she had her hands balled into fists.

“She told me we’d be able to talk two days ago at the feast. And she has yet to ‘ _call for me’_. I need to see her, _now._ ” She made a move to walk past Martha, but Martha sidestepped and blocked her path immediately. Lady Leah stepped back at once, surprised.

“I’m sorry but the Princess has already gone to bed, my Lady. Tomorrow, she’ll call for you.”

“You don’t understand. There’s something _weird_ going on.”

“I’m sorry but I’m sure whatever it is you must discuss with her can wait till tomorrow. She gave me explicit orders not to disturb her tonight.” Martha tried to reason with her, “She is very tired after all that training with the High Priest.”

Leah huffed again, stepping back and biting her lip before stepping up towards Martha again and whispering aggressively in Martha’s ear, “Look, her life’s at stake, okay?”

Martha’s eyebrows scrunched as her mind went back to the night before and the fight between the Servant and the Wild Knight. She was silent for a moment, scrutinizing Leah’s face to try and read what Leah was thinking, but the urgency in her eyes only spoke of that: urgency.

“What do you mean?”

“I can only discuss it with the Princess, that’s why I _need_ to see her.”

“You suspect there’s someone trying to get to her, don’t you?” Martha was guessing, based on what she’d seen and Leah’s words. But she seemed to have been right about it as Leah bit down on her lower lip again and looked around, “Is the somewhere more private we can talk?”

The door closed behind Martha silently. Leah paced the bathroom’s floor, her head low and her first clenched at her sides whole Martha watched.

After a beat, Leah stopped and turned back to Martha, “Alright, tell me what you know.”

“I was doing some embroidery last night, down at the servant’s lounge, when I heard a discussion so I went to see what was going on,” Martha was quick to recount what she’d seen, “and I found a Wild Knight trying to intimidate a Kitchen’s Servant into something, but he wouldn’t say what. I think he was trying to get inside somewhere, but I interrupted them before he could.”

Martha watched Leah take it all in. She looked as if there were physical gears turning inside her brain, concentrated, lip between her teeth and icy-blue eyes drawn in thought.

“Are you sure it was a Wild Knight and not just some man with a green cloak?”

Martha nodded enthusiastically, proud that she’d recognized him from her visit to the Temple, “Yes, I’m sure, my Lady. As a matter of fact, I had just gone to visit my friend at the Order’s Temple the night before and I recognized him sneaking out. I know it was the same man because he has a distinct scar above his cheek, and his eyes are as sharp as an eagle’s.”

“Above his cheek? Which cheek?”

“The right one.”

Leah’s eyes widened and Martha bit down the urge to interrogate her in what she knew. She’d already pushed her luck enough as it was with the conversation. She knew she was skipping all kinds of protocols and honors; she had to remind herself for a moment that Leah was a Lady, and she was just a handmaiden. She bowed her head then, waiting for Leah to speak.

“Shit.”

Martha looked up, surprised, and in spite of her own self-preservation instincts, she asked, “Do you recognize him, too, my Lady?”

Leah nodded, eyes gazed over as she watched the wall to Martha’s right, still deep in thought.

“During the Garner, a few minutes after the lunch break, I sent my own handmaidens away to have some peace and read before the trials started again. But I was interrupted by murmurs outside my door. When I went outside, I found the same Wild Knight standing there. He denied having spoken at all but…”

She left the sentence hanging and Martha fought the urge to ask her to continue. After a beat, Leah seemed to have regained her composure, snapping her eyes back to Martha’s and speaking, “Thank you, handmaiden. You’ve helped me out a lot. Can I trust you to help me by keeping all of this quiet?”

Martha drew in a breath and, with a spike of bravery she didn’t really know she had, she said, “My Lady, my name is Martha, and I’ll gladly do that _and_ help you get to the bottom of it, if you would allow for me to help you.”

Leah looked at her hard for a moment, as if trying to decipher her intentions. Martha tried not to squirm but, if on a normal conversation Leah’s eyes were intense, now they were nerve wracking.

“Alright, Martha,” she said in the end, “It’s up to us then.”

//

The sun set and an hour later Toni found herself walking down the Temple’s cool hallways with Rachel, Dot and Quinn in tow. They were all tired, they bodies aching, their skin sweaty, and their eyelids already dropping. Dyn Marius had worked them until they dropped, well past dinnertime, and so they’d been sent to bed with just a piece of bread and a glass of watered-down wine.

“This is torture.” Dot complained, breaking their weary silence.

“Oh please, you were never sent to bed without supper as a child?” Rachel asked.

“Well, no, actually. Supper is an important meal.” Then, after a pause, “Actually, all meals are important. We’ve been working out almost all day, this shouldn’t be allowed.”

Rachel rolled her eyes and sped up her pace to catch up with Toni before digging her elbow into Toni’s side and laughing, “highborns, am I right?”

Toni snickered as she turned back to watch Dot’s miserable face.

“Don’t worry Dot,” Toni smiled, “That feeling in the pit of your stomach goes away after a few hours.”

“A few hours? Oh, Gods.”

“I heard that, uh, chewing mint leaves or ginger roots helps with the hunger since it’s tasteful and it tricks your mind into believing you’re eating something.” Quinn chimed in, “also, drinking helps.”

“Yeah, with an empty stomach, she’ll be drunk soon enough and forget all about her hunger.”

“Oh, no, no, not wine. I meant water.” Quinn fell into step beside Rachel to try and get her attention as the other girl laughed lightly, “You see, water fills your insides so there’s no room for your body to feel the emptiness.”

“And you’re sure about this?”

“Yes, my uh, my father was a physician, back in our village, and there was a lot of hunger there.”

“Was?” Dot called from the back of the group as they approached the Temple’s left wing where their rooms were.

“Yes, he died last year.”

Silence fell upon them again as the three girls shared uncomfortable looks but, before any of them could speak, Quinn cleared his throat and spoke again, “There’s no need to be sorry for me, though. He was old and I’m okay with him leaving.”

Toni looked up at him and found his eyes nervously travelling from every single corner in the hallway, looking at a million things in a second, but never landing on any of them. He didn’t look sad; not like she’d seen most people be when they’d talk about their dead loved ones.

“Okay, well,” Dote spoke up, “I bet he was a damned good man to have raise you up, y’know, since you’ll be a knight and all.”

“Yes,” For a moment, Quinn’s eyes stopped moving and he cleared his throat, “He was a great man, very honorable.”

“Talking about honor, though,” Rachel smiled a wicked kind of smile as she turned to Dot, “Someone’s got some explanations to do about last night. Where you, perhaps, taking someone’s _honor_ away?”

Dot stumbled over her own feet as the group came to a halt, both Quinn and Toni rapidly looking between Rachel’s smug face and Dot’s beet-red one.

“What do you even mean?” Dot demanded.

“Oh please, Grinnell, you know what I mean,” Rachel rolled her eyes and Toni smiled. She was about to chime in and tease Dot some, since it was obvious Rachel had hit the nail head on, but then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a fellow initiate’s eyes. Toni couldn’t even remember his name, but he was leaning against a room’s open door, looking at their group – no, looking at _her_ – with a cruel smile in his lips. Toni’s skin boiled in a second. She huffed and turned away, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from reacting.

“I do not, in fact. I was out just–” Dot hesitated, and it was all Rachel needed.

“Oh yes, please, enlighten us with an explanation of what exactly you were up to all night and all morning?”

Dot’s blush deepened, but Toni wasn’t paying attention anymore. Her breathing had climbed, her pulse racing, and a low screeching sound had taken to overwhelm her ears, making all her thoughts blurry and hot.

“Excuse me,” she muttered before storming away from the group and the other initiate who was still watching her, his smile only growing. She heard them call for her, but she ignored them, focusing on the cool night air brushing against her cheeks and the sound of her own footsteps echoing against the rocky walls and polished floors instead. She gripped her fists tightly, wrapping her arms around herself tight enough for it to hurt a little, to keep from hitting something, and kept her eyes downcast.

She didn’t know how, but she ended up crossing through the whole building and arriving at the entrance of the Temple after a few minutes of pacing. She looked up at the massive doors and then at the empty front yard around her. _Might as well_ , she thought, all her hopes crumbling inside of her. An endless list of eyes flashed through her mind’s eyes then. Dot’s right before the Garner, Rachel’s at the feast, Andrew’s, Dyn Marius’, Dyn Jamie’s when she was taking her measurements, and every single Dyn and Initiate’s eyes after her punishment. They all told the same story.

Poor little Toni. So small, so short, so weak, so _incapable_ and so _worthless_.

She run then, pushed past the guard with enough force to make him trip and fall. This gave her enough time to push the heavy oaken gates open and slip past them. She was gone before the guard could even call for help.

It didn’t even matter though, Toni thought. It wasn’t a prison, and no one inside actually cared about her staying, so there was really no point in going after her.

//

Nora was done.

From the moment Lady Leah declined her company in her visit to the Princess’ chambers she knew. She could tell it from the look on Leah’s eyes. She didn’t trust Nora.

“She doesn’t trust me,” Nora urged, “And I am _not_ poisoning her with _this._ ”

She held up the vial Thom had given her the night of the feast, still untouched.

Alex groaned and turned away, frustrated, “Nora, listen to me. If you don’t keep Lady Rilke under control – whichever way you can – then your _sister_ shall pay the price, you hear that? We can’t have Rilke running around and messing up our plans.”

Nora gulped down the knot in her throat. She wanted to plead, to beg, to cry.

“But it’s– I can’t. I won’t poison her!” she insisted, “At least give me a way to drug her – give me a real sleep elixir – and then you can kidnap her. That can do. We’ll just hide her away until no one remembers her name anymore. She’ll never talk. Just don’t make me kill her.”

Alex narrowed his eyes at her before nodding curtly, “Alright. But if I see or hear anything strange from Rilke, and she’s not gone by the next hour, then I’m going after little Rachel, you hear me? No second chances this time.”

Nora nodded, biting down on her lip. She was both thankful and scared, but she was relieved. Her sister would survive another day.

“Now give me that. Maybe we can find another use for that little thing. Expensive as hell as it was.”

Nora passed him the vial and he pulled a new one from a pouch tied to his belt, “This one should put her to sleep almost immediately. Make sure to mix it with something strong beforehand, though, or else the taste and smell will give it away.”

//

Shelby hadn’t meant to run away.

She’d taken a bath with Martha’s help and then slipped into her sleeping gown, but as she tried to rest her head down on the fluffy pillows of her bed, her mind started racing.

She just couldn’t do it.

And so, she’d sneaked out. Initially, she just wanted air. She’d gone out into the balcony, but then a guard had approached her from the small courtyard under the balcony and asked if she was alright. She’d smiled and assured him everything was fine, but her throat had started closing so, after the guard had moved on, she’d climbed off the balcony and into the courtyard before heading for the palace’s eastern gardens. She’d crossed the rose bushes and the orchard in complete silence, her feet bare and only a thin shawl covering her nightgown and before she knew it, she was at the outer walls.

She’d gotten past then through a secret tunnel her mother had shown her a few years back, but she’d never actually used until now.

And just like that, she’d run away.

But she had to admit, breathing deeply was much easier out there on the deserted streets of the capital than up there on the palace’s hallways. There were no guards making sure she was alright, no Lords or Ladies scrutinizing every single thing she did or didn’t do. She could finally relax her shoulders and hunch over a little, walk without thinking of how she looked or how her dress looked, relax her tight jaw, feel her hair down her back and on her shoulders, free of any pin or arrangement. The cool night air caressed her cheeks and, for the first time in a long time, she smiled. Truly smiled.

“The hell are you wearing?”

Shelby almost jumped at the sound of another voice in the street. She turned to the owner only to find a short Wild Knight; the hood of their beautiful green cloak pulled down low over their face. Shelby composed herself almost instinctively, jutting out her chin before speaking, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I did not see you there. And who might you be, noble Dyn?”

The Knight huffed out a wicked laugh before stepping closer. The only light available was that of the few houses around them and the moon, which was only one quarter full, but the one thing Shelby caught clearly where the shiny pieces of the Knight’s armor. It was brand new by the looks of it.

“Why do you talk like some kind of stuck-up royal?” the Knight asked with a humorless tone, “What, you think just ‘cause you live _near_ the palace you’re somehow better than me?”

Shelby didn’t know how to respond. She wrapped the shawl around herself more tightly for a moment, wondering if maybe it was better to return to the palace. This Knight was _nothing_ like the ones back inside.

The Knight waited for a response but, getting none, they turned away with that same cruel laughter from before, “Well, if you’re so much better then at least you could, I don’t know, wear some _shoes_ while you go _strolling_ down the street in the middle of the night, _moron_.”

That was it.

“Hey! You have _no_ _right_ to talk to me like that! Just because you resent your petty little life does not give you a free pass to treat _me_ with disrespect!”

The Knight turned back to her and, this time, pulled down her cloak’s hood. It was a girl.

“I knew it.” she called smugly, but Shelby was too distracted to process her words, “You _are_ some kind of stuck-up royal-lover, aren’t you?”

Her eyes carried a fire Shelby hadn’t ever seen before. They shone fiercely, daring Shelby to move. Her hair was a wild mane of dark curls, tumbling over her shoulders like a cascade of shiny coals under the moonlight. The armor made her look buff, accentuating the way she carried herself, with a powerful intention and ease that made her lacking stature almost insignificant.

After a beat Shelby realized the girl – _the Knight_ , she reminded herself – had spoken to her. As soon as the words registered, though, Shelby straightened her back indignantly, _“I am your Princess!”_

The Knight’s face fell comically, and Shelby had to bite back a smile and a laugh as she panicked, surely thinking of ways to take back her foul attitude and disrespectful comments. Shelby felt a swell of self-conceit burst in her chest.

“No, you’re not,” but the girl said instead, “The Princess has shiny, golden eyes. I saw them myself.”

Shelby stared at her for a moment, confused. Then she remembered her.

The initiate that killed the jackalope all on her own. She’d been the talk of the Lords during the feast, she vaguely remembers. A nobody who dared steal the price from righteous and far more deserving knights’ hands. Martha’s friend.

“Toni.” She said, although she couldn’t remember her last name. The girl in turn frowned.

“How do you know my name?”

Shelby frowned, exasperated, “I told you. I’m the Princess? Also, you must address me as ‘Your Highness’ at all times, noble Dyn. _And_ why did you say my eyes weren’t golden?”

Toni rolled her eyes and huffed, “Well I’m not a Dyn, _Your Highness_. So, you can stop calling me that now. And I don’t know about you, but I know golden when I see it, even under such poor light. And that,” she pointed at Shelby’s face, “Ain’t golden.”

Shelby frowned, “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s dark and–”

“No, not about the eyes, about the Dyn thing. Did you not win the Garner?”

Toni pursed her lips, “Yes, I did.”

Shelby could tell she was keeping information to herself, so she stepped closer, wrapping her shawl tighter around herself still and crossing her arms over her chest for good measure. If there was something her father had taught her right was how to make her presence noticed.

“And? Shouldn’t that make you a Dyn, then?”

“Technically, it would make me an _Initiate_.” She smirked and Shelby gave her a pointed look until Toni’s smile fell, and she sighed, _“–Your Highness.”_

“Initiates can still be called Dyn as long as they’re wearing the cape.”

Toni groaned before looking away and crossing her arms over her chest, “And besides, as an _Initiate_ , shouldn’t you be at the Temple?”

“Shouldn’t you be up on your pretty little tower, sleeping, Your Highness?”

Shelby narrowed her eyes at Toni, but the Knight held her stare with one just as intense.

“I am your Princess. You must answer my questions truthfully. I order you to do so.”

“I don’t see any guards around here to enforce your orders, though.” Toni smiled triumphantly before uncrossing her arms and pulling away her cloak to reveal a ceremonial dagger strapped to her belt, “And I have a dagger.”

“Dare use it against me, Initiate.” Shelby warned, “And you’ll suffer the consequences.”

Toni smiled for real this time – a big, toothy grin that reminded Shelby of a wolf’s snare – before unsheathing the dagger. She tried to put it to Shelby’s throat, but even if the girl was fast, Shelby had been trained for such attacks since a young age. Even as a Princess, self defense was as important as diplomatic training.

She pulled down hard at Toni’s wrist the moment she was withing range and the girl dropped the blade in an instant, even faster than Shelby was expecting.

“Argh!” she called, stepping away and clutching at her wrist, turning her back to Shelby.

“Alright that’s enough, I barely even touched you!” Shelby tried to laugh through her concern at the Knight’s exaggerated reaction. She picked up the blade and offered it back, hilt first, but the Toni remained turned away.

“Are you alright?” her voice softened as she looked over Toni’s shoulder and caught a glimpse of her wrist, covered in a thick bandage under her robes, “By the Gods! What happened to you?”

Toni turned back to her in an instant, hand swiftly covering her wrist with her robe’s sleeve again before pushing Shelby away.

“None of your concern, _Your Highness.”_ She bit back.

Shelby wanted to roll her eyes again – she seemed to be doing that a lot with Toni – but she held back, biting her lip instead before saying, “It _is_ my concern when one of _my_ knights gets injured. Let me help.”

Toni narrowed her eyes at her before looking away. If there’d been more lights around, Shelby might have been sure she’d seen Toni blush.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I quit.” She sighed heavily, “So I’m no longer _your knight_ , your Highness. Sorry to disappoint.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m not a fucking knight now, am I?!” she finally burst, turning back to Shelby with eyes suddenly prickled with shiny, unshed tears. Shelby stepped back, shocked by Toni’s fury, “I’m just a stupid little homeless girl who _got lucky_. See, I couldn’t even attack _you_ properly.”

“But you–” Shelby stuttered for a moment, then frowned, “You won the Garner. That makes you as worthy of the cloak as any other.”

Toni huffed, grimly, “Well, tell that to the Knights at the Temple.”

“Tell them yourself, you wimp.”

It was a bold move, but Shelby was ecstatic to find out it was the right thing to say as Toni looked up at her, her frown gone and replaced by a surprised raise of the eyebrows, her lips parted slightly. Then, it returned in full force, of course.

“Bold words for a girl all alone, out here in her nightgown.”

Suddenly, Shelby was too aware of the cool night air briskly climbing through her naked calves all the way up to her back. She shivered, trying to hide her embarrassed blush by frowning intently.

“I am a _Princess_ , and you will not disrespect me like that, _Dyn_.”

Toni was about to speak, but then stopped herself. Shelby smiled. Toni hadn’t corrected her this time.

“ _Initiate._ ” Toni mumbled. Shelby beamed.

“And besides, what _are_ you doing out here dressed like that?”

Shelby hesitated, “I– I was going out for a walk.”

Toni raised an eyebrow at her, “So was I.”

Shelby rolled her eyes before looking away, “Not like that.”

“Sure thing, _Your Highness_.” Toni shrugged.

Shelby huffed, “I needed some time to breathe. Being the heir to the isle and future head of _your_ Order is a lot, if you hadn’t noticed. Do you even know how long I had to just sit and _meditate_ today? And on the floor! It was so exhausting. And then–”

“Alright, I’m sorry Your Highness, but maybe don’t talk to _me_ about hard, okay? I was just hung from a pole all night by my _wrists_. And that was just last night.”

“Okay but it’s not the same thing,” Shelby hated it, but she could feel herself getting defensive, “you don’t know the kinds of pressures I’m under just by being the King’s daughter, never mind being the _heir,_ you–”

_“I am no one’s daughter!”_

Shelby felt a knot lodge itself on her windpipe, “I’m sorry.” She said, her voice coming out pathetic and small.

“You should be. It was your father’s fault.”

“I’m _not_ my father.”

Toni laughed, “Sure you’re not. You’re out here complaining about how hard _your_ life is. _Please._ You’re just like any other highborn. You have no idea of what the kingdom looks like up close, and you don’t want to know either.” She paused for a moment, her chest heaving and a sad smile curling her delicate lips upwards, “You’re just happy to sit up there in your pretty little golden thrones and steal our lives away so you can enjoy yours.”

 _“No,”_ Shelby didn’t think she’d ever been so sure of something in her life, but as she listened to Toni speak, she suddenly saw it crystal clear. She despised every single thing Toni’d said, but she recognized it in herself. Every single word. She was what Toni described. Sheltered, spoiled, never felt the need for anything that wasn’t resolved by a simple call to her handmaiden or the palace’s butler. She was right, and Shelby hated it being reminded of it. She was suddenly disgusted by who she was, “No, I will– I will change.”

“Show, don’t tell.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always hope you enjoyed! If you've got any ideas or prompts you can hit me up at yourstrullyme on Tumblr, or if y'know, you just wanna scream about the wilds i'm happy about that too, so come say hi! Also, I have no idea what the update schedule of this fic will be since every time I try to do that, I blow it. But I'm trying to change that so I will try to update rather periodically. See you next time!


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